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Class _3)J2._101. 





The Story 


Her Life and Death 


Properly speaking, there is no History, only Biography. 




44 w. baltimore street 

Baltimore, Md. 


Two Copiu RecCivtD 

JUN. 12 1901 



Copyright, 1901, 
By Agnes Sadlier. 




the peasant maid. 

Introduction .....*. 9 

Chapter . Page 

I. Childhood of Jeanne d'ARC . . 33 

II. The Voices 41 

III. Jeanne Enters Upon Her Mission . 49 

IV. Jeanne Meets the King . . .56 

V. Jeanne is Examined by the Doctors 

AT Poitiers 63 

VI. Preparations for War . . .71 


the warrior. / 




Jeanne Enters Orleans . 



The Struggle for Orleans . 



The Deliverance of Orleans 



The Campaign on the Loire . 



The Coronation 



Further Triumphs . 



The March to Paris . 



Jeanne's Last Days at Court . 








Chapter Page 

I. Jeanne is Sold to the English . .181 

II. Preparations FOR Jeanne's Trial . 190 

III. The Trial 204 

IV. Re-Examination 223 

V. Martyrdom 243 

Rehabilitation 259 





Celebrated) Momem 

Per volume, cloth, $i.oo. 





In order to understand the condition of France in 
the fifteenth century, when Jeanne d' Arc, the no- 
blest figure of profane history, appeared, and how it 
was that so powerful and wealthy a country had sunk 
to the need of miraculous interposition to free her 
from the yoke of the invader, we must go back to the 
fourteenth century. In the year 1314, Philip the 
Fair, King of France, died, leaving three sons. None 
of these had sons, so that they successively occupied 
the throne. In 1328, the youngest was laid to rest 
in St. Denis, and the house of Capet, for the first 
time, since, from the ruins of the House of Charle- 
magne, it had risen to the kingship, was without 
any direct heir. It is true, each of these three sons 
of Philip had left daughters, but these did not count, 
because there was a law, known as the Salic law, 
from the Salian Franks, the most powerful of the 
great confederacy of tribes which had followed 
Clovis to the conquest of Gaul, which prohibited 
women from reigning. 

After due consideration, the twelve peers of 
France conferred the crown on Philip of Valois, the 
nephew of Philip the Fair, and his nearest kinsman 
in the male line. The granddaughters of Philip the 
Fair yielded to their cousin, in consideration of cer- 
tain concessions made to them, and a critical time 


seems to have been happily passed through, when 
a new claimant for the French crown appeared. 

This was no less a personage than the splendid 
young king of England, Edward the Third, who 
grounded his claim on his descent from his mother, 
Isabella of France, daughter of Philip the Fair. In 
vain it was represented to him that his mother could 
not transmit a right that she had never possessed ; 
he retorted that she had transmitted the royal blood 
which gave her son a right to the crown which her 
sex alone forbade her to assume. It was never very 
difficult to tempt an English king into war with 
France, and the end of the argument was that 
Edward assumed the title of King of France, quar- 
tered the royal lilies of that country on his shield, 
and declared war>^against Philip of Valois. During 
that king's reign, victory rested with Edward. The 
glory of Cr6cy (1346) added its lustre to English 
annals, while the capture of the strong city of Calais 
insured the invaders a permanent advantage by 
giving them a point of arrival, of departure, of 
occupancy, of provisioning, and of refuge, in the 
enemy's country. 

Under King John, the son and successor of Philip 
of Valois, French arms fared still worse, for at their 
terrible defeat at the battle of Poitiers, (1356) John 
himself was taken prisoner. Humiliating as this was 
to France, however, it was really a blessing in dis- 
guise, for it brought to the governing of the King- 
dom, the king's eldest son, the dauphin Charles. It 
is true his gifts were not for war ; he had been guilty 
of running away from the field of Poitiers, a fact 


sufficient to utterly disgrace him in a time when 
war was the passion and habitual condition of men. 
But he redeemed this fault by the sagacity and pru- 
dence which he displayed in circumstances which 
would have been found trying by the oldest and 
most experienced sovereign. 

France, in the fourteenth century, was far from 
being the compact state which we know by that 
name. It could hardly be called a nation at all. 
After the empire of Charlemagne, as fragile as it 
was extensive, had broken into pieces, five centuries 
before, the weakness of that branch of his family to 
whom France had fallen, and the confusion and want 
of union that prevailed in consequence, added to, 
the terrible and constant invasions of the Northmen, 
caused large numbers of the native chiefs and 
warriors to build strong fortresses in the forests, on 
the tops of mountains, and in the crags of rocks. 
The less wealthy proprietors, along with the free 
peasantry and the serfs, were glad to seek shelter 
with these, and in this way feudal society sprang 
into existence. The kingship waned in power and 
influence, while the great feudal lords, its nominal 
vassals, became really independent sovereigns. The 
sentiment of nationality became almost extinct. 
The mental horizon of the vassals of each feudal 
lord narrowed to his territory ; all beyond was 
vague and uncertain. In the tenth century, Hugh 
Capet, duke of Paris, revived the French kingship, 
founded the Capetian dynasty, and began a struggle 
with the feudal power, that was still in progress in 
the fourteenth century. It was the feudal system 


which caused the terrible French defeats of Crecy 
and Poitiers. The French army was not really an 
army at all, in the sense of being a compact, organ- 
ized, disciplined body, fighting for a common country 
against an invader ; it was merely a collection of in- 
dividuals, each of whom had followed his lord's 
banner to the field to fight in his quarrel. 

In the eleventh century, the kingship had gained 
a new ally. During the period when royalty 
was but a name, and vassalage but a shadow, and the 
feudal lords, secure in their mountain eyries, or rock- 
bound fortresses, seemed in their recklessness, and 
cruelty, to defy all laws, human and divine, in the 
towns at their feet, there had been growing pain- 
fully and slowly, but surely, a power that was to 
break theirs ; the aristocracy of commerce, destined 
to destroy that of birth. 

Many of these towns, having become powerful and 
wealthy enough to resist the oppressions of their feu- 
dal lords, turned to the kingship as a counterbalanc- 
ing power, and in return for charters guaranteeing 
their liberties, supported the king against the feudal 
power. The existence of these Communes was brief ; 
the state of society was too disturbed, they too small 
and weak to stand alone ; bargaining liberty for 
security, they requested the king to assume their 
administration. But though the Communes passed, 
the power of the great middle class, the burghers, or 
" the inhabitants of the good towns," as they were 
called, abided, and under the name of the Third 
Estate, became one of the most determining influ- 
ences in French civilization. 


But in the middle of the fourteenth century, 
this great middle class only added to the prob- 
lems with which the dauphin had to deal. In 
France the throne rested on no other foundation 
than that of loyalty. It was an absolute mon- 
archy. There were no institutions to control it or 
supply its place in its absence. When this absolute 
power was in the hands of a wise king, all went well, 
but when such a king as John reigned, the country 
suffered terribly. John was " a good and loyal 
knight," but much more concerned about acquit- 
ting himself well in the tournaments and jousts which 
were his delight, than about administering the affairs 
of his kingdom wisely. The result was that when 
he was carried off by the English, he left a distracted 
country, in which king, nobles, and middle class 
were all soon at strife. The burghers were seeking 
to obtain power and rights in order to guard their 
property ; the nobles were equally resolute in oppos- 
ing any government or institutions that would deprive 
them of a share in the revenue and wealth derived 
exclusively from the middle and civic classes, and 
which they demanded from the king in payment 
for their military services; while Charles, though 
anxious as the representative of the kingship, to pro- 
tect the middle classes, whom tradition taught him 
to regard as its defender, and obliged to try to sat- 
isfy the nobles, was resolved not to sanction any 
institutions that would be at all likely to curtail the 
royal power. 

How radical were these dissensions was shown at 
the opening of the dauphin's career as " lieutenant 


of the king " when at the meeting of the States 
General convened by him " to deliberate on the state 
of the kingdom," the Third Estate made a series of 
demands, which, however great the abuses they were 
intended to correct, were excessive and violent, and 
would have impeded the regular course of govern- 
ment and justice. The dauphin was placed in a 
trying position, because his need of ready money 
was great, and the Third Estate, which supplied the 
royal revenues, made their subsidies dependent on 
the granting of their demands. Charles adopted a 
policy of delay, and in order to supply his financial 
needs, had recourse to a favorite expedient of French 
kings in such circumstances, and debased the coinage. 
This led to a terrible insurrection in Paris, headed by 
Stephen Marcel, the provost of the tradesmen, who 
assumed the government, stopped the issue of the 
debased coinage, and authorized the States General 
to meet when they pleased, (1356). 

About the same time, the peasants in many of the 
northern provinces of France, maddened by the out- 
rages and oppressions resulting from the long war 
with England, rose in a terrible revolt, known as the 
Jacquerie, from the -name Jacques Bonhomme, *' Jack 
Goodfellow," which had been given the peasant in 
the pleasant belief that he would bear anything. 
Whether or not the peasant insurrection had been 
instigated by Marcel it is hard to say, but it is cer- 
tain that he encouraged it. It required but a short 
time, however, to prove the failure of the Parisian 
burgher's attempt to govern the country by the coun- 
try itself. He and his partisans had grasped a power 


which they wanted the prudence to moderate, or the 
skill to control, and which the absence of political 
ideas, hereditary rights, or old institutions gave noth- 
ing by which to hold. Seeing his power waning, Mar- 
cel attempted to give up Paris to the King of Navarre 
who might be called the evil genius of the dauphin's 
life, but was killed by some loyal citizens in the act 
of doing so. Paris returned to its allegiance, and 
threw open its gates to the dauphin who bore himself 
very wisely at this juncture of affairs. Only the ring- 
leaders in Marcel's insurrection were punished ; 
and a general amnesty was granted to all, noble or ig- 
noble, who had been concerned in the Jacquerie. 
Taught by experience, Charles made no more mis- 
takes, and soon began to bring order out of chaos. 
In 1360 he succeeded in concluding with Edward 
III. the Treaty of Bretigny, known as " the great 
peace." Its terms were sufificiently humiliating to 
France, involving as they did, the absolute cession 
of a large portion of her territory, and the payment 
of an enormous ransom for her sovereign ; but it 
procured her a breathing-space. John returned to 
France. He stayed, however, only two years and a 
half ; then learning that his son, the Duke of Anjou, 
one of the hostages given to England as security 
for the carrying out of the treaty, had broken his 
parole, the pleasure-loving king, disguising under 
the noble sentiment " that if honor had no other 
asylum on earth, it should have one in the heart of 
kings," his preference for the gala life, filled with 
jousts and tournaments, which he had led in Eng- 
land, departed for that country, where he died the 


following year, leaving France to the effective 
government of Charles, who had already obtained 
the surname of the Wise, by which he is distin- 
guished in history (1364.) 

John's stay in France, however, had been long 
enough for him to commit the greatest fault of his 
wretched reign. When, on the field of Poitiers, he 
had been fighting desperately against overwhelming 
odds, his young son Philip, only fourteen years of 
age, had clung obstinately to him, shouting, 
"Father, 'ware right; Father, 'ware left," as the 
danger proved greater in either direction ; had been 
taken prisoner with him and shared his captivity. 
In 1362, the extinction of the first House of Bur- 
gundy caused that great and wealthy fief to revert 
to King John, and he, welcoming it as an opportunity 
to reward the devotion of his favorite child, be- 
stowed it on Philip, thus founding the second 
House of Burgundy which was destined to play 
for more than a century, so great, often so fatal a part 
in the fortunes of France. 

Charles now sought to repair the ravages of the 
long war. When the truce of Bretigny was over, 
with the aid of the great Breton warrior, Bertrand 
du Guesclin, he renewed the war with Edward. 
Realizing that the lack of organization had caused 
the French defeats of Crecy and Poitiers, he adopted 
the plan of avoiding any general engagement, 
and depending on the result of small expeditions 
and skirmishes. This policy of wasting and scat- 
tering the English forces was approved by Du 
Guesclin who carried it out so well, that at his 


death in 1380, the English possessed little of im- 
portance in France beyond Calais. In gratitude 
for the Breton warrior's services, Charles caused 
him to be interred in a tomb close by the one built 
for himself in St. Denis. Two months after Du 
Guesclin's death, Charles himself passed away, at 
the age of forty-three, leaving, as he himself said, 
" the affairs of the kingdom in good case." 

Then began a reign which has been called, " the 
grave of good morals and good laws in France." 
This is no exaggeration, for the sixteenth century 
with its religious wars ; the eighteenth, with its 
reign of terror ; or the nineteenth, with its Com- 
mune of Paris, show scarcely any events so sinister 
as those of which France, from 1380 to 1422, was the 
theatre and the victfm. 

As has been said, France had come to put her 
trust in the absolute power and will of the monarch, 
as the sole principle of security. But the weak 
point of absolute monarchy, the crevice in its 
armor, is the nonage or incapacity of the reigning 
sovereign. This evil now fell on France, for the 
son of Charles the Wise, who ascended the throne 
as Charles the Sixth, was but a boy, and a boy in 
whom all the reckless and chivalric qualities of 
the Valois were strongly marked. In his hands 
the royal authority became a nullity, while the 
princes of the blood, his unpopular and rapa- 
cious uncles, the Dukes of Burgundy, Anjou, Berry 
and Bourbon, seized France as their prey. Each 
of these strove to get the young king under his in- 
fluence in order to further his own projects. In 


order to maintain his ascendency, the Duke of 
Burgundy effected Charles' marriage with Isabella of 
Bavaria, with whose portrait the young king is said 
to have fallen in love. The wedding was celebrated 
with great splendor in the Cathedral of Amiens, in 
the year 1385. Then Isabella was but a frivolous 
girl of the exuberant type of Flemish beauty; in 
later years most French historians describe her as a 
reincarnation of Poppaea or Theodora ; what is cer- 
tain is that she gave an impetus to France in her 
course towards the abyss of ruin, 

Charles Sixth was as fond of war as his grand- 
father had been. He gathered the materials for a 
great expedition to invade England, but at the last 
moment was frustrated in this plan by his uncles. 
This made him anxious to become his own master, 
and in a great council, which he called at Rheims, he 
took the government on himself, and recalled all of 
his father's old ministers. These being mostly men 
of humble birth, were called " marmousets " by the 
princes of the blood and their followers. 

With the king's greedy uncles removed from 
power, and Charles anxious to repair the injustice 
they had caused, it seemed as if happier days were 
dawning for France. But at this juncture the 
crowning blow fell upon her in the insanity of her 
king (1392). This restored to the king's uncles the 
power which they had believed lost to them forever. 
The most powerful of them was Philip, Duke of 
Burgundy who, to the great domain of Burgundy 
in the heart of France which his father. King John, 
had given him, had joined Flanders to the North 


Sea, which had come to him through his wife in 
1384. Thus this nominal vassal of France was in 
reality one of the most powerful and opulent princes 
in Christendom. 

On their return to power, the royal dukes grad- 
ually got rid of Charles' ministers, and appointed 
tliose of their own choosing. The war with Eng- 
land was disposed of by the marriage of her king, 
Richard Second, and Isabella the little daughter 
of Charles' Sixth, (1394), and for ten years the 
affairs of the kingdom were conducted without any 
great troubles, the Duke of Burgundy remaining in 
the ascendant, save during those brief intervals 
when a return of reason enabled Charles to as- 
sume the government himself. 

Such was the state of affairs when a rival to Bur- 
gundy appeared in the youngest brother of the 
king, the Duke of Orleans, the first to bear the 
title since so prominent in the annals of French his- 
tory. His youth had hitherto kept him in the 
shade of his ambitious uncles, but as he grew to 
manhood, his handsome person, gallant nature, and 
cultivated tastes, rendered him more agreeable 
than they to the king and court. He had obtained 
from the king grants of territory which made him 
almost the equal of Burgundy in this respect, and 
even sought to encroach on that duke's territory, a 
proceeding which excited the latter's wrath to a 
terrible degree. Whatever reprisal he might have 
meditated, however, was prevented by his death. 
This was a sad event for the French people, for 
Philip's age and the attachment to France which 


leavened his selfishness, had always kept him from 
proceeding to extremities against his nephew. 
His son, John the Fearless, who succeeded him, was 
deterred by no such reasons, but on the contrary, 
stimulated by a personal jealousy of his kinsman, 
carried the inherited feud to a terrible ending. 
One dark night, after the curfew had emptied the 
streets of Paris, the Duke of Orleans was set upon 
by armed rufifians as he passed through a lonely 
street, and murdered (1407). 

This terrible deed changed partisan strife into 
civil war which arrayed the north and the south of 
France against each other. The young Duke of 
Orleans was married to Bonne d'Armagnac, the 
little daughter of Count Bernard d'Armagnac, one 
of the most powerful nobles in the south of France, 
and a man of iron will and ruthless nature. 
Henceforth the adherents of Orleans were known 
as Armagnacs, and distinguished by the white 
scarf, which they wore as their badge of party. 
The Burgundians assumed the green hat or chap- 
eron of the Flemings, and the St. Andrew's cross, 
with a fleur-de-lis in the midst, the emblem of Bur- 

It is almost impossible to portray the misery into 
which France, and especially Paris, was plunged by 
this war. All shadow of stable government dis- 
appeared ; to-day one faction, to-morrow, another, 
ruled. The queen cast in her lot, now with the 
Armagnacs, now with the Burgundians, whilst the 
poor mad king and his children were utterly 
neglected. There was no such thing as justice, for 


the magistrates were appointed through bribery 
and corruption. The revenue of the royal domains 
was squandered, while the people were pillaged by 
the royal officers acting in the name of whichever 
faction happened to be in the ascendant. The 
peasants were at the mercy of brigands who took 
what the tax-gatherers left. 

The murdered Duke of Orleans had made the 
Parisians pay such heavy taxes in order to supply 
his pleasures, that he had become extremely un- 
popular, in that city, so that from the beginning of 
his quarrel with Burgundy, it had espoused the 
cause of the latter. The better class of the in- 
habitants, however, shocked by the murder of 
Orleans which Burgundy not only boldly avowed, 
but justified as the removal of a tyrant, and seeing 
that there was little to choose between Armagnacs 
and Burgundians, began to assume a neutral at- 
titude, so that both parties were compelled to turn 
to the lower classes for support. The Burgundians 
gained the alliance of the butchers, one of the 
most powerful and wealthiest corporations in Paris. 
Caboche, a skinner and tanner, was a kindred spirit 
of the butchers, and from him this band took its 
name of Cabochiens (hob-nails). They were the pro- 
totypes of the sans-terres, and sans-culottes of the 
French Revolution. 

So engrossed was the nation in this fraternal strife, 
that it paid but little heed to the new danger that 
menaced it. Richard Second of England, the friend 
of France, had been deposed by the Duke of Lan- 
caster, who ascended the throne as Henry Fourth. 


Conspiracies against him were so numerous that he 
had no time for foreign wars. But when the frohc- 
some Prince Hal had become the serious and ma- 
jestic Henry Fifth, he demanded from France the 
absolute cession of Normandy, Anjou, and Maine, 
and the hand of the princess Katharine, Charles 
Sixth's daughter, in marriage, with a dowry of two 
million crowns (1414). 

The refusal of this monstrous demand caused 
Henry to invade France. Charles Sixth, who 
happened to be having a lucid interval at the time, 
hastily collected an army, in which the nobles, 
roused at last to a sense of their country's danger, 
hastened to enroll themselves. The armies met at 
the little village of Agincourt. The result of the 
battle was a splendid victory for the English ; for 
the French a crushing defeat in which the flower 
of her chivalry was slain or taken prisoner (141 5). 
Among those who shared the latter fate was the 
Duke of Orleans, the son-in-law of the fierce d'Ar- 
magnac. He was a graceful poet, a gift that must 
have proved a great solace during the long years 
that he was doomed to pass in captivity. 

Henry Fifth maintained that France had been 
delivered into his hands because of the iniquities 
of her princes and her people. His war against her 
was conducted in a religious spirit, none of the ex- 
cesses to which a mediaeval army was prone, being 
permitted. Shakespeare, in his play of Henry Fifth, 
indicates this by representing Bardolph as hanged 
for stealing a pax. After the battle of Agincourt, 
Henry returned to England, where he was received 


with the greatest enthusiasm which took the very 
substantial form of large subsidies to enable him to 
carry on the war. 

Meanwhile the Burgundians and Armagnacs con- 
tinued their war, heedless of France's peril, and 
Henry landed again in France without the slightest 
effort being made to prevent him, besieged, and 
captured, several towns in Normandy. But it was 
in these walled towns, filled with the descendants 
of men so impatient of slavery that they had made 
the touch of their city's soil give freedom to the 
serf, that the spirit dwelt which was to inspire the 
real resistance to the foreign conquest of France. 
We can picture these old high-roofed, gabled and 
walled cities of Northern France ; now mellowed 
and crumbling with age, but then with many 
of their beautiful wooden buildings quite new ; 
standing amid meadows and orchards, and vineyards, 
or upon sunny slopes, by winding rivers ; inside the 
city, narrow winding streets with rough stone pave- 
ments, and gutters down their midst ; lofty gabled 
houses, many of them with the solid arris, the great 
horizontal beams, the coping and turret, that spoke 
of a troubled time, and the need of a man being able 
to defend his house in case of an outbreak ; beyond, 
by the river, the wharves and halles ; the whole girt 
about by massive walls with numerous batteries, and 
strong fortifications. Such was Rouen, the capital 
of Normandy, and after Paris, the wealthiest and 
most populous town in France. Henry laid siege 
to it. It resisted long and bravely, though its ap- 
peals to the Burgundians, then in possession of the 


government were unheeded, but famine at length 
compelled it to yield (141 8). Henry spared the 
lives of its inhabitants on condition of their paying 
him 315,000 gold crowns, and leaving the city to be 
filled by English families. 

Nothing could be cruder than this last condition 
of the conqueror. It would be terrible to-day, but 
it was much more so in the Middle Ages, when, save 
perhaps to make a pilgrimage, generations lived and 
died without passing beyond the suburbs of the city 
where they were born ; when every man built his 
house, not for himself alone, but to be handed down 
to his descendants, for which reason it was built 
with individuality, for a family with its own style 
of life, its own traditions, and desiring a dwelling- 
place in accordance with its tastes. Thus in its con- 
struction and ornamentation, it received a stamp of 
its own, and as time went on, and generation after 
generation of the same family lived and died within 
its walls, and it became hallowed to its possessor 
by the consciousness that its rooms had wit- 
nessed birth and death, had echoed the passion of 
great causes, and the enthusiasm of popular move- 
ments, for which perhaps his forefathers had shed 
their blood, the vows of love and words of tender- 
ness, the anger, and the merry jest, the laughter, 
and the sobs of anguish ; all the joys and the sor- 
rows in a word, that went to make up that family 
life to which strong religious faith gave dignity and 
earnestness ; he asked nothing better of God than 
to die where his father had died, and to leave the old 
roof-tree to his children. 


A short time before Henry had laid siege to 
Rouen, the strife between the Burgundians and 
Armagnacshad culminated in the massacre of Count 
Armagnac and an immense number of his adherents 
in Paris (141 8). A few days later, Queen Isabella, 
accompanied by the Duke of Burgundy, entered 
the blood-stained city, took possession of the 
king's person, and claimed the royal authority. 
Those of the Armagnacs who escaped, repaired to 
Poitiers, where they proclaimed the dauphin 
Charles, the third of the insane king's sons who had 
borne that title, regent, and set up a rival govern- 

The Burgundian faction now sought to treat 
with Henry Fifth. The queen, representing the 
king, who was still insane, accompanied by her 
daughter the Princess Katharine, and the Duke of 
Burgundy, had an interview with the English king. 
The negotiations thus opened progressed favor- 
ably for Henry, as far as the unscrupulous Isabella 
was concerned, for she cared little about the fate of 
her adopted country, provided her own future'was 
secure. It was different with the Duke of Burgundy. 
Ruthless, sanguinary, stained with murder as he 
was, he was still guiltless of treason. The patrio- 
tism, which was not strong enough to keep him 
from rending France with civil war, proved suffi- 
cient to vanquish the temptation to betray her, 
and the English king, expecting his adherence, 
received instead the news that he had opened 
negotiations with the dauphin. 

But it was not decreed that Burgundy the mur- 


derer should live in history with the light of the 
patriot on his brow. The foul crime which had 
caused rivers of blood to flow in France and brought 
suffering on untold thousands, was to be requited by 
one still fouler. The duke, bidden to a friendly 
interview with the dauphin at the bridge of Monte- 
reau, was slain during it, by some of the dauphin's 

This mad act was the crown of France's misery. 
The new Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Good, 
hastened to ally himself with the English, and 
with Queen Isabella, concluded, in the name of the 
insane Charles, the Treaty of Troyes with Henry, by 
which the dauphin was set aside, and the English 
king received the hand of the Princess Katharine, 
and was adopted as Charles' son, given the regency 
of France during her king's life, and the crown at 
his death. 

On Trinity Sunday, the twenty-first of May, 
1420, Henry and Katharine were married at Troyes. 
Even his bride did not keep the royal warrior more 
than a single day from his work of conquest. But 
he found that the dauphin did not mean to yield 
easily. Outcast as his mother's solemn renuncia- 
tion of him had made him ; crippled in resources, 
and with the sympathy of France alienated by the 
crime which, rightly or wrongfully, he was held ac- 
countable for, he still struggled to hold his own. 
Victory, however, continued to favor Henry, and 
when, in the spring of 1422, he went with his queen 
to keep the festival of Whitsuntide in Paris, he was 
the master of almost the whole of northern France. 


He entered the capital with great pomp, but failed 
to arouse any enthusiasm. The Parisians loved 
their afflicted king ; and they remained angry and 
silent at seeing him only a cipher in the sum of 
the conqueror's grandeur. 

The end was drawing near, however, for two of 
the actors in the tragic drama. The English king 
was in the stern, secret grasp of a foe that knows 
not defeat, and two months later he died at Vin- 
cennes. A few weeks later, death ended the long 
and unhappy reign of Charles Sixth. The dauphin 
at once assumed the title of Charles Seventh, and as 
Rheims, the city in which every French king had 
been crowned since the foundation of the mon- 
archy, was in the hands of the English, he was 
anointed and crowned at Poitiers. 

On the other hand, the English at once pro- 
claimed Henry Sixth, the infant son of the deceased 
Henry, under the regency of his uncle the Duke 
of Bedford. 

This Duke was as great a general as Henry Fifth 
had been, and for some years the war went on, 
characterized by terrible cruelty on both sides. 
France, exhausted of blood and of treasure, could 
put no armies in the field : but maintained fortress 
after fortress with matchless spirit and endurance. 
But the consequence of this was that the war sank 
into mere massacre and brigandage. The soldiers 
tr.iversed the country, ravaging the farms, sacking 
the towns and villages, and carrying off captives, for 
Avhom their kindred were obliged to pay ransom. 
The north of France became almost a desert, 


for the husbandmen fled for refuge to the walled 
towns, until these, in fear of famine, shut their gates 
against them. Then, in their despair, they took to 
the woods, and became brigands in their turn. 
The land, thus deprived of the peaceful and fructi- 
fying labor of its sons, was barren in the time of 
harvest, so that famine soon aided disease within 
the cities. In Paris, alone, more than a hundred 
thousand people perished. 

The real obstacles to the conquest of France by 
the English were the smallness of the army which 
they were able to bring into the field, and which 
enabled them to leave only very small garrisons in 
the conquered towns, and that pride in their race, 
their country, and their language, which inspired 
all classes with a horror of passing under the 
kingship of the foreigner. A common danger 
had created the sentiment of French nationality. 
As yet it was but a feeble spark, but she already 
walked the earth whose love for France was to fan it 
into the clear, vivid flame that has burned steadily 
through the centuries. 

At length, in 1428, the English decided to 
advance to the Loire, that great river which crosses 
France from east to west, about its centre, and in- 
vest Orleans, on its northern bank, the most im- 
portant city of France, after Paris and Rouen. 
Both parties realized that its capture would decide 
the fate of the French monarchy, and nerved them- 
selves for a supreme struggle, while all France 
looked on with breathless interest. 

After having obtained considerable reinforce- 


ments, the English began in October, 1428, the 
siege of Orleans. The approaches to the city were 
as closely occupied as the strength of the besieg- 
ing army permitted and bastiles, strongly con- 
nected with one another, were constructed around it. 

In the meantime, the most valiant captains of 
France, Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and the Mar- 
shal La Fayette, threw themselves into Orleans, 
whose garrison amounted to scarcely twelve hun- 
dred men. But several towns sent thither muni- 
tions and militia ; the States-General met at Chinon 
and voted an extraordinary aid ; and Charles 
Seventh sent thither all the soldiers he could 
muster. The first passage at arms was unfortunate 
for the French. The Count of Clermont, in com- 
mand of a French force which he had raised at 
Blois, hearing that Bedford was sending a convoy 
of provisions to Orleans, determined to intercept 
it. He came upon the English at Rouvray, but Sir 
John Falstolfe, who was in command, turned the 
" battle of the herrings," as it was called from the 
chief article of food in the convoy, into a com- 
plete defeat for the French (Oct., 1428). 

This disaster seemed to presage the fall of Or- 
leans, and with it the ruin of the French monarchy. 
Many of Charles' supporters quietly withdrew from 
his court ; he himself wept helplessly when he 
heard the news, and began to meditate flight to 
Spain or Scotland. The struggle that had been 
maintained so bravely for nearly a century seemed 
of no avail, France seemed doomed to pass under 
the power of England. 


But during all this terrible time, when peace and 
good will never seemed more absent from men, 
there had been going on that life that eludes his- 
tory ; the life of patient men and women steadfastly 
keeping His law ; His witnesses, whom no time has 
ever been without, whose dreams were of mere}'- 
and of justice, and who prayed unceasingly tliat 
His Kingdom might come. And if He waited to 
answer these until the despair in France had deep- 
ened to utter darkness, it was only that this might 
throw more strongly into relief the radiant figure of 
its deliverer. 


Tu ne comprends done pas qui cet etre qui plane, 

Ce bras leve, ces yeux ravis, 
C'est elle, c'est la sainte et grande Paysanne, 

Ta Paysanne, 6 mon pays ! 

The Peasant Maid. 



" The unremitting retention of simple and high sentiments 
in obscure duties is hardening the character to that temper 
which will work with honor if need be, in the tumult, or on the 

North of the great river Loire, at the time of 
the English siege of Orleans, only two places still re- 
mained faithful to Charles Seventh. In the west, 
the great monastery-fortress and cathedral, com- 
bined, of St. Michael, surmounting the great rock 
which springs from the sea on the Norman coast, 
where it juts out toward England, still bore the 
liHes of France above its battlements. In the far 
east, on the river Meuse, just north of the territory 
of the traitorous Duke of Burgundy, they still 
waved over the castle of Vaucouleurs, thanks to the 
loyal bravery of its commander, Captain Robert de 

A few miles south of Vaucouleurs, on the last 
gentle slopes of the Vosges Mountains, as they de- 
scend into the marshes of Lorraine and Cham- 
pagne, lies the little village of Domremy, where 
Jeanne d'Arc was born on the feast of the Epiph- 
any, 141 2. The village is almost the same to-day, 


as when Jeanne looked on it with earthly eyes ; a 
poor cluster of mortar houses surrounded by vine- 
yards and farm lands, and rich grass-meadows, on 
the banks of the bright Meuse water. Two great 
broad yellow roads, bordered with stiff poplar trees, 
run through it; one the great high-road between 
France and Germany, the other leading along the 
borders of the Meuse, away through the Nether- 
lands to the North Sea. 

In the centre of the village where these roads 
intersect, stands the church, a broad, low building 
with a small, heavy tower, surmounted by a stone 
cross. Close to it stands a cottage with the slo- 
ping one-sided roof characteristic of French farm- 
houses. This was the home of Jeanne d'Arc. 
The family consisted of Jacques d'Arc, his wife 
Isabel Rom^e, a surname that would seem to imply 
that she had made a pilgrimage to Rome ; three 
sons, Jacques, Jean, and Pierre, and two daughters, 
Jeanne and Catherine. 

As Jacques d'Arc was a yeoman and a local 
magistrate, and the family of as much importance 
probably as any in the place, his house was no 
doubt better than most of the dwellings in the vil- 
lage. Yet it consisted of only a kitchen or general 
living room, a couple of bedrooms, and a spacious 
garret. Its furnishings were good, and no doubt 
of that mediaeval grace and beauty that have so 
great a charm for modern eyes ; but so few, as to 
give the rooms almost a look of bareness. Yet the 
great fire-place, stretching half-way across one side 
of the kitchen, shows what a generous fire used to 


blaze there, in whose steady glow, or play of light 
and shadow, the living room must have looked 
cheerful and homelike enough, as the simple family 
life went on within it. We can imagine Jeanne as a 
child, in her coarse woolen frock, and little sabots, 
helping her mother, in the labors of the household ; 
perhaps watching the pot-au-feu as it hung from 
the great black crane over the fire's leaping flame ; 
rocking her little sister to sleep in its warmth, or, 
her tasks finished, resting beside it, seeing, perhaps, 
her first visions in its glowing depths ; then as a 
maiden, with her fair face framed in the village coif, 
sewing or spinning by its light, or gathered with the 
rest of the family about it, on some winter's night,, 
while the storm raged without, listening to the- 
story of English cruelty, or black Burgundian atroci- 
ties, told by some poor wounded soldier trudging 
painfully homeward, to whom Jacques d'Arc ha4 
given shelter for the night. 

Once, at least, the d'Arcs with the rest of the 
dwellers of Domremy, wpre driven from their 
peaceful home by a force of Burgundian xavalry 
and obliged to seek refuge at Neufchateau for a 
fortnight. But lying as it did almost on the Border, 
the village seems to have escaped almost all the 
miseries of the war, though its situation on the high- 
road kept it well informed as to the state of 
affairs in the country. 

Jeanne is often called the shepherdess of Dom- 
remy, and some authors assert that she shared the 
labors of her father and brothers on the farm. She, 
herself, contradicted this in the interrogatory at her 


trial, when she declared that she never went to the 
field, to guard the sheep or other beasts, after she 
had grown up. She could not remember whether 
she had kept them in her childhood or not. 

As her husband had three stalwart sons to assist 
him, it might indeed only be expected that Dame 
Isabel would keep her daughters indoors, to share in 
her labors of housewifery. When these were finished 
the spinning-wheels were brought out, or needle- 
work. The latter was in those days a most ex- 
quisite art. It may have been taught to the women 
of Domremy centuries before Jeanne's time, when 
the village belonged, as its name implies, to the 
great abbey of Saint Remy, in order that they 
might ornament the church vestments, and handed 
down from one generation to another, long after the 
village had ceased to be part of the church lands. 
Or it may be. Dame Isabel had been brought up in 
some convent, and trained to that deftness with the 
needle which formed so important a part of a young 
girl's education, whether of high or low degree, in 
the fifteenth century. Whoever taught her, Dame 
Isabel must have been a past mistress of the art, 
for at her trial, Jeanne declared that there was no 
woman in Rouen that could teach her anything 
about sewing. Strange enough it must have sounded 
to her judges to hear the Warrior-Maid, who had 
shown such natural genius for war, declare her 
proficiency in this most womanly of arts. Perhaps 
in the Cathedral at Rheims, or in some neighboring 
church, there may still be a maniple, or a stole whose 
rich faded embroidery is the work of Jeanne d'Arc. 


The principles of religion and the severest moral- 
ity ruled the family life. Jacques d'Arc seems to 
have been a stern man, hiding, as men of his type 
often do, under a cold exterior, a deep and tender 
love for his wife and children, but preferring to see 
them dead rather than guilty of anything that 
would have tarnished the spotless family name. 
The mother, while as fervent a Christian, was of a 
gentler temperament. She gave the children all 
the education they ever received. As Jeanne said 
later they did not know A from B ; a fact not at all 
surprising in a family of their social level, in the 
fifteenth century. What they learned from their 
mother was the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the 
Credo, and the great dogmas of faith, told in 
Isabel's simple language, as she had learned them 
from the nuns perhaps, in some quiet sheltered con- 
vent in her youth. 

After these had been learned by her children, the 
mother no doubt added tales from Scripture, or 
stories and legends of the saints, so alluring to 
generous souls, with their self-sacrifice, their glory 
of giving all to God and asking nothing in return. 
Little did the mother dream, as she spoke with sim- 
ple eloquence of holy things, that the maiden be- 
side her, eagerly drinking in her words, was to gain 
the laurel of fame, and the palm of the martyr, with 
the sword of the warrior ; that her name was to de- 
scend through the ages as the symbol of the purest 
patriotism, and that the humble home whose walls 
echoed her words, was to become the " santa casa " 
of France. The soul of Jeanne opened to the in- 


fluences of religion as the grass of the field to the 
dew of heaven, and strong, simple virtues sprang 
from the virgin soil of her soul, as naturally as the 
beautiful flowers from the fertile valley of her be- 
loved Meuse. 

From her earliest years she was distinguished by 
great piety. No matter who else failed to a^^pear 
at Mass in the cold winter mornings, the priest was 
sure to see little Jeanne. She partook of the Sacra- 
ment every month ; later on, every week ; and when 
she was with the army, she went to confession twice 
a week. The little garden of her father's house 
touched the cemetery of the church, and Jeanne 
took advantage of its nearness to often go and 
prostrate herself before the life-si2ed figures of Our 
Lord on the Cross, and the Blessed Virgin. 

Such was the humble but poetic environment in 
which this predestined soul was placed ; in a little 
hamlet in a deep pastoral solitude ; in a laborer's 
cottage, in which life was lived with all the strong 
faith and stern piety of the Middle Ages. 

But all Jeanne's time was not so seriously spent. 
Just beyond the cottage began the forest of the 
Vosges mountains, the oak-wood, whose every dell 
and fountain, poetry had peopled with fairies. It 
served as a delightful playground for all the children 
of Domremy, and no one seems to have delighted in 
it more than Jeanne, of whom it is said that the 
birds and beasts came lovingly to her at her call. 
But her favorite spot was to the north of Domremy, 
where, on the side of a hill gently sloping towards 
the Meuse, was the chapel of a hermitage conse- 


crated to Our Lady. Here the women and young 
girls of Domremy went to burn candles for their 
intentions, but Jeanne loved to bring hither the 
garlands which she and the other children wove in 
the oak-wood, to adorn the shrine. Especially in 
May-time she loved to lead the children there to 
sing hymns in honor of Our Lady. On Sundays, 
too, between the services, it was her custom to 
carry garlands and bouquets to this shrine. She is 
said to have loved the sound of the church bells, 
and when the ringer was remiss in his duty, used 
to bribe him to its better performance, by the gift 
of lunes, — a sort of little cakes. 

Thus in the discharge of homely, humble duties, 
and the enjoyment of simple, innocent pleasures, did 
Jeanne prepare her mind and body for her great 
mission ; while people saw in her only a simple, 
gentle girl, who blushed when teased about being 
too devout, and was very charitable to the poor, and 
especially to the wounded. On one occasion, she 
gave up her bed to some wounded fugitives, and 
went to sleep in the barn, and during the examina- 
tion into her life, instituted by the Holy See years 
after her death, many from her native village, who 
had known it, bore testimony to the gentleness and 
efificacy of her nursing. 

We do not know what first led Jeanne's thoughts 
to dwell on the unhappy state of France. It may 
have been the direct inspiration of God who led this 
little servant of His, all through her short life, in so 
unusual a way ; it may have been that the strip of 
frontier province in which Domremy lay, being di- 


rectly subject to the king, the sentiment of patriot- 
ism was ardent in it, it may have been that her 
mother, reared in some convent loyal to the fallen 
royal house of France, kindled by her teachings 
the flame of patriotism in her daughter's soul ; but 
we learn, from her own lips, that at an early age, 
her heart was already filled with a " passion of 
pity for fair France." A passion of pity ! This 
was the beginning of her great work ; for Jeanne's 
pity was not destined, as pity so often is in women's 
hearts, to remain dumb and powerless, but was to be 
transmuted into deeds so great as to render her who 
achieved them an enigma to historians, a wonder 
to the nations, and a glory to the Church of God. 



** Yes, my voices were of God ! " 

One June afternoon, when Jeanne was about 
thirteen years of age, she was in the garden back of 
the cottage. She says that she was at work, so it 
may be that she had taken her spinning-wheel, or 
her sewing, out of the dark, close house into the 
open air. It must have been a pleasant place, this 
old garden on the edge of the forest, with its trees 
and flowers, and its view of the still bright Meuse 
winding slowly through the grass-meadows, where no 
doubt most of the villagers were then at work ; the 
men mowing, and the women and children turning 
the hay. The sound of their voices and their merry 
laughter may have reached Jeanne faintly as she sat 
at her work, in the quiet in which she loved to steep 
her soul, but it had no power to distract her mind 
from the thought that now almost continually oc- 
cupied it — the state of beautiful, unhappy France, 
ground under the iron heel of the fierce invader, be- 
trayed and dishonored by her own princes, with her 
king uncrowned, and deprived of his inheritance. 
Was it to be always thus ? Would God never hear 
the prayers that rose from thousands of devout hearts 
each day ; ne^ver raise France from where she lay 


prostrate, and wipe away the tears of anguish that 
had flowed so long from the eyes of her people ? 

Suddenly, as the little maid sat thus musing, a 
dazzling light shone between the spot where she 
was and the church, and a Voice said : " Jeanne, be 
a good and prudent child ; go often to church." 
And then the light faded, leaving Jeanne motionless 
with fear, as the children of men have ever been 
at celestial visitations. The counsel itself was 
nothing new or disturbing; it was what she had 
often heard from her parents and the village cure. 
But the light, the voice from another world ! What 
ecstasies of terror and of delight must have swept 
by turns over her soul, as she meditated on the 
wondrous scene ! What a secret lay in that childish 
heart, as she went within the house to perform her 
usual household tasks! The Jeanne who had left 
the house to go into the garden was separated by 
an immeasurable distance from the Jeanne who 
entered it again. For the wonderful thing which 
had happened to the men and women of Holy Writ, 
and to the saints of whom her mother had so often 
told her, had happened to her, too, little Jeanne, — 
a Voice from Heaven had spoken to her. 

As the days went on, and the vividness of the 
first strong impression wore away, she may have 
begun to question whether she had really heard the 
Voice, but if so, her doubts were soon set at rest. 
Soon the heavenly light shone again ; this time a 
group of angelic figures stood, half hidden, half re- 
vealed, amid its splendor. One, of wise and noble 
aspect, with wings, she came later to know as the 


great St. Michael, Archangel of battles. He it 
was who spoke, saying: " Jeanne, go to the succor 
of the King of France, and render to him his king- 
dom." Thus was her great mission opened to her, 
and how terrible it must have seemed to the little 
peasant maid! Out of her very terror she gathered 
strength to answer — to make the first childish ob- 
jection that rose in her frightened Httle soul. 
•' Messieur, I am only a poor girl ; I do not know how 
to ride horseback, or lead armies." The Voice an- 
swered, " Go, find M. de Baudricourt, captain of 
Vaucouleurs ; he will lead you to the king. St. 
Catharine and St. Margaret will assist you." Then 
the vision faded, leaving Jeanne weeping, as if she 
discerned the greatness and awfulness of her destiny. 

And now the visions appeared to her often ; in the 
fields; in the house, by the church, in the garden, 
and most frequently, in the oak-wood to whose dim 
recesses she loved to retire to pray. There St. Mich- 
ael appeared to her again, and again, telling her of 
his pity for France, and bidding her be of good 
courage. Other saints came, too, in the gentle forms 
of women, wearing rich crowns, and speaking to her 
in voices so sweet and tender as to make her weep. 
They told her they were St. Catharine and St. Mar- 
garet. These two virgin martyrs became her 
habitual counsellors, strengthening and consoling 
the little martyr that was to be. 

The little maid wept when her celestial visitants 
departed. " I longed," she said, " for the angels 
and saints to carry me with them," little dreaming 
that it was only to be after bitter pain and humilia- 


tion, and by the fierce way of the flames, that she 
was to join the celestial throng in the happiness af 
the Beatific Vision. 

By degrees Jeanne's mission was fully communi- 
cated to her. Meantime, she was growing into a 
slim, but strong and well-formed girl, whose habit- 
ual intercourse with angels and saints must have 
given her face a singularly refined and exalted ex- 
pression. This was the only sign, however, by which 
her great secret might have been suspected, and it 
was not one easily read by those about Jeanne. She 
showed no laxness in the performance of her house- 
hold duties, her hands were as ready as ever in the 
service of the sick or helpless. The only change 
noticed in her was that she no longer seemed to care 
for games or dances. She would take part in them 
to please her companions, but as soon as she could, 
she would withdraw, and steal away to taste in 
secret of that meat for which her soul hungered. 

Great indeed must have been her need of strength 
from on high, for a terrible struggle was going on 
within her soul ! She, the timid girl whom a word 
disconcerted, was bidden by Heaven to go and live 
among soldiers ; bidden to say farewell to that quiet 
corner of the earth in which her life had been spent ; 
and to which all the hopes and aspirations of her 
heart had hitherto been confined ; to the church, 
and to the little garden in its shadow, where the birds 
came to her in the peace of God, as they came of 
old to the Fathers in the desert, to eat crumbs out 
of her hand. 

Tv/o years after Jeanne had first heard her Voices, 


her father had a dream, in which he saw her go 
forth from his house with soldiers. It may have 
been that when he was relating this terrible vision 
to his family, Jeanne showed some confusion at 
hearing him speak of her secret design ; at all 
events, he seems to have grown watchful and suspi- 
cious of her ; and knowing the brutality and license 
of a mediaeval camp, one day said to his sons, that 
if he thought Jeanne really intended to go with 
soldiers, he would order them to drown her, and if 
they refused to do it, he would do it himself. 

Whether it was the mother's expedient for smooth- 
ing matters or not, there seems to have been an 
attempt made at this juncture of affairs, to marry 
Jeanne. It was no doubt easy to find suitors for 
her hand ; many a young peasant would have been 
glad to bring home to his hearth, one who, to 
her noted capabilities as a housewife, added the 
charms of a grave, modest beauty, a sweet disposi- 
tion, and helpful, sympathetic ways. As for her 
piety, that would be no drawback, for whatever a 
man may think of that virtue for himself, he seldom 
objects to it in a wife. 

One of these suitors, having vainly tried every 
other means, went so far as to assert that Jeanne 
had promised to be his wife, and cited her before 
the ecclesiastical judge of Toul. Knowing her re- 
serve and timidity, every one believed that she 
would sooner marry than defend herself. The event 
proved how mistaken they were ; Jeanne went to 
Toul, appeared before the judge, and confounded 
her adversary. 


While Jeanne was thus struggling with earthly 
obstacles, her Voices had never ceased their commu- 
nications : but now their sole burden was " Daughter 
of God, go forth." Gradually all her natural repug- 
nance, all her terror, vanished, and her soul was set 
to one great issue : the performance of the Divine 

The hour had come, the way was now to open 
for her. Her uncle, Durand Laxart, whose special 
favorite she was, asked her parents to let her come 
and nurse his wife who was ill. They gave their 
permission ; the mother no doubt thinking it would 
be well for several reasons, for Jeanne to leave home 
for a little while, and the father, willing to oblige 
his brother-in-law, and believing that Jeanne would 
be as safe with him as under his own eye. As for 
Jeanne, her heart must have beaten fast, when she 
heard that she was to accompany her uncle, for he 
dwelt at Bury-le-Petit, near Vaucouleurs, whither 
the Voices had directed her to go first. 

On the way, she opened her heart to him, and 
told him all the wonderful story of her Voices. We 
can easily imagine the peasant's stupefaction. Had 
he never heard, asked Jeanne, that France, betrayed 
by a woman, should be redeemed by a woman? 
Yes, Durand had heard that prophecy. Then, the 
first shock over, and the honest man given time by 
Jeanne to turn the matter over in his mind, he may 
have come to the conclusion, that since there was 
a prophecy, some one must accomplish it — and that 
there was no one in France more worthy to be chosen 
by Heaven to do so, than the girl walking by his 


side. The matter ended by Jeanne making him 
promise to go to Vaucouleurs and ask the aid of 
Captain de Baudricourt. 

A few days later, according to his promise, Uncle 
Durand took his way to Vaucouleurs, and told the 
story to de Baudricourt. The simple peasant met 
with a brusque reception from the bluff soldier who 
laughed loudly and heartily at his nonsense, and 
flatly refused to have anything to do with Jeanne, 
save to " box her ears," and send her home to her 

Terribly crestfallen, Laxart left the captain's 
presence, and returned home, sadly thinking on the 
way, what a blow it would be to Jeanne to find the 
only door of hope thus shut so rudely in her face. 

But Jeanne received the news of his rebuff very 
quietly. On Ascension Day, 1428, she succeeded 
in having an interview with de Baudricourt herself. 
When she appeared before him, in her coarse red 
peasant dress and village coif, her spiritual beauty, 
and noble, dignified manner, seem to have impressed 
him in spite of himself ; for we hear no mention of 
the threatened chastisement, but find him instead 
listening respectfully as she told him that " she 
came to him on the part of her Lord, that he should 
send to the dauphin, to tell him to hold out, and 
not give up the battle to his enemies, for the 
Lord would send him succor before Mid-Lent. The 
kingdom did not belong to the dauphin, but to the 
Lord, who willed that the dauphin have it in com- 
mand." She added that in spite of his enemies, she 
would lead the dauphin to be crowned. 


" And who is thy Lord ? " asked de Baudricourt 
when she had finished. 

"God," answered Jeanne. 

This interview seems to have had no immediate 
effect. Jeanne returned to her uncle's house, and 
thence home. But in a few months the city of 
Orleans was invested by the English, and as the 
news spread throughout France, all realized that 
the question whether they would or would not be 
be subjects of the King of England was about to be 
decided. The Voices bade Jeanne go and raise the 
siege of Orleans; and Jeanne prepared to obey. 
Bravely stifling the pain she felt on leaving her 
parents' roof without their permission, she comforted 
herself by the assurance that when they understood, 
they would forgive her. Nor was she mistaken ; 
when her wonderful triumph made all believe in her 
heavenly call, they fully and freely forgave her, 
recognizing that she had disobeyed them only to 
obey God. She took one of her friends, Mengette, 
into her confidence, and prayed with her, recom- 
mending her to God, before bidding her farewell; but 
from her still dearer friend, Haumette, she concealed 
her design, fearing, as she afterwards explained, that 
she would be unable to withstand the entreaties of 
the latter not to go. And then about four years 
after she had first heard the Voices, Jeanne quitted 
her father's house, which she was destined never to 
behold again, and set out with her uncle for Vau- 



He to the nations hath ordained me 
And unto whom He sends me I must go 
And that which He commands me I must speak, 
And that which He shall will, I must perform, 

Most fearless in the fulness of my faith. 
Because the Lord hath sent me. 

On arriving in the city of Vaucouleurs, Jeanne 
went to lodge in the house of a wheelwright who 
was a cousin of her mother. When or how de Bau- 
dricourt learned that she had returned, we do not 
know, for the details of events in this part of her 
career seem to have been very much confused in 
the minds of the witnesses at her Rehabilitation. 
She seems, however, to have been a source of great 
perplexity to that stout soldier, for he next appears 
in the story seeking counsel of the parish priest, as 
how to deal with this strange peasant maid with 
her story of being sent by God. The priest and he 
paid Jeanne a joint visit, during which the priest 
exorcised her. He told de Baudricourt that he saw 
nothing to indicate the presence of the powers of 
evil, but declined to give any opinion in regard to 
her mission. Meanwhile her presence and purpose 
in the city became noised about, and began to ex- 
cite enthusiasm which her hosts, Catharine Leroyer 


and her husband, fanned by their continual praises 
of her sweetness, her wisdom, and her piety. 
Crowds gathered at the door to see her going in or 
coming out of the house ; many came from long 
distances to see and speak with her ; the prophecy 
of a virgin coming forth from Lorraine to save 
France was remembered ; and if the Seigneur du 
Baudricourt, in his castle on the hill, still enter- 
tained doubts, there were none in the hearts of the 

" Is it not betraying France and the dauphin," 
they cried, " to neglect such a means of a succor? " 

Among those who went to see the strange pea- 
sant maid, was a gentleman of Lorraine, named Jean 
de Metz. It would seem from the way he ad- 
dressed her, as if curiosity and a desire for amuse- 
ment had led to his visit, though it is probable that 
these only veiled a determination to grasp at any 
expedient that would seem to afford help to a los- 
ing cause. 

" Well, my good girl," he said, " what are you 
doing here? Do you mean to say that the king is 
not to be driven out of his kingdom, and that we 
are not all to become English ?" 

" I am come," Jeanne answered, " to speak to 
Robert de Baudricourt, to have him conduct me to 
the king. But he will have naught of me or my 
words. Nevertheless, before Mid-Lent, I must be 
with the king, even if I have to wear my feet to 
the knees to reach him. I would rather stay and 
spin by my mother's side," she continued, sadly, 
*' for this is not my state ; but it is necessary that 


I do my work, because my Lord wills it. Neither 
princes, nor captains, nor the daughter of the King 
of Scotland,* nor any other person can save the 
Kingdom of France ; there is no succor save in 

Jean de Metz was deeply impressed ; so much so, 
that he placed his hands in hers after the old feudal 
fashion, and swore on his honor as a gentleman, 
that he would conduct her to the king. Before 
taking his leave, he asked when she wished to set 
out ? Jeanne answered : " Better to-day than to- 
morrow ; better to-morrow than the day after." But 
in order to depart, it was necessary to get the con- 
sent of de Baudricourt to their doing so, and this was 
not easy to obtain. And time passed, while Jeanne 
was consumed with impatience. 

Her fame had spread by this time throughout the 
province of Lorraine, at least, for at this juncture, 
a messenger arrived from its Duke, who lay ill at 
his castle at Nancy, asking Jeanne to go to him. 
Ashe was the son of Yolande of Aragon, and there- 
fore the brother-in-law of the King of France, 
Jeanne may have thought it wise to go, though she 
must have sorely grudged the time. She therefore 
set off with the safe-conduct which the duke had 
provided. She and her uncle were attended as far 
as Toul by de Metz ; they went the rest of the way 
alone. When she presented herself before the 
duke, he consulted her in regard to his malady. 
Jeanne told him she knew nothing about it, but 

* Jeanne alludes here to the betrothal of the little son of 
Charles VII. to the princess Margaret of Scotland. 


would pray for his cure ; and begged him to merit 
that favor by making his peace with God, and being 
reconciled to his wife from whom he was separated. 
She then told him of her mission, and requested 
him to send his son, with a guard of soldiers, to 
escort her to the king. The haughty nobleman, 
disappointed, and probably not overpleased, at 
Jeanne's plain speaking, would not grant this re- 
quest. Nevertheless, he seems to have dismissed 
her with much respect, and a gift of some gold 
crowns. Jeanne profited by her presence at Nancy, 
to make a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Nicholas. 
She returned to Vaucouleurs on the first Sunday of 
Lent, which fell that year on the thirteenth of 
February, to find that her short absence seemed 
only to have increased popular enthusiasm in regard 
to her. 

Whether the current of popular feeling, and the 
urgings of Jean de Metz, and of Bertrand de Pou- 
lengy, two gentlemen of de Baudricourt's suite, 
who were firm behevers in Jeanne, would of them- 
selves have ever prevailed over the Seigneur's 
doubts, will never be known, for he soon received a 
proof of her power which seems to have satisfied 
him. A short time after her return, some say the 
very day, on which the disastrous battle of the Her- 
rings took place, Jeanne had an interview with 
de Baudricourt during which she told him of the 
fresh reverse to French arms. When, in due time, 
a king's messenger confirmed the sad story, de Bau. 
dricourt hesitated no longer, and began prepara- 
tions for her departure. 



The elan of enthusiasm which his decision created 
in the town below took the substantial form of a 
magnificent charger, a coat of mail, and a lance for 
its idol. In the midst of the excitement Jeanne's 
brother Pierre came to join her. 

The reverse of the brilliant scene at Vaucouleurs 
where all was joy, and excitement, and expectation, 
was the home at Domremy, silent and more sorrow- 
ful than if Jeanne had been borne out of it to her 
place in the little graveyard close by, that she had 
loved so well. There is no one prouder of the re- 
spectability of his name than the French peasant, 
and to know that people were talking of him, and 
pitying him for that which had come upon his house, 
must have made life very bitter to Jacques d'Arc. 
He seems to have judged his daughter harshly in his 
anger and to have permitted no communication 
with her while she was at Vaucouleurs, but Isabel, 
who knew her daughter as only a woman can kno.w 
another woman, never doubted that, whether called 
by Heaven, or led by delusion, Jeanne's motives 
were as pure and holy as earth ever knew. 

Whether, at the last, M^hen the great news reached 
Domremy that Jeanne was really going to be taken 
to the king, Jacques d'Arc sternly ordered his son 
to go and give the protection of his presence to the 
misguided girl ; or whether Isabel secretly urged 
him to join Jeanne so that her darling might have 
some one of her kindred with her in the great world 
which she was about to enter, we can not know. 
What is certain is that Pierre joined her and was 
equipped to ride as one of her escort. The other 


members of it were : Jean de Metz, and Bcrtrand de 
PoLilengy, with their two servants, Julien, and 
Jean de Hcnnecourt; Jean de Vienne, the herald 
of the king-, who had brought the news of the 
" Herring" defeat, and the archer Richard, probably 
his attendant. 

At length on the twenty-third of February, all 
was ready for departure. One of Jeanne's last acts, 
before leaving the home of her kind hosts, the 
Leroyers, was to dictate a letter to her parents, 
begging their forgiveness for disobeying them, 
which she only did, she declared, in order to obey 

Then, clad in her page's dress, with its breast- 
plate and light armor, and with her hair cut round 
like a man's, Jeanne passed through the eager 
throng, gathered about the door, mounted her 
horse which the gentlemen who were to accompany 
her had taught her how to ride, and rode towards 
the castle where her escort was waiting. The two 
gentlemen plared themselves at the head ; the 
Maid in the midst, with the attendants behind her. 
De Baudricourt presented Jeanne with a sword ; and 
made her companions swear to protect her with 
their lives, and to conduct her safely to the king. 
" Away then, Jeanne, let come what may," he 
concluded. The little cavalcade, thus dismissed, 
began to move, amid the cheers and joyful shouts 
of the people. Tradition still points out, amid 
the ruins of the Castle of Vaucouleurs, the old 
gate called the Porte de France, through which the 
Httle band passed on that great journey to Chinon. 


Then, amid tears and benedictions, and heart-felt 
wishes that God might speed and prosper her, 
Jeanne rode away, leaving to Vaucouleurs only the 
memory of the Maid it had loved so well. 



En Dieu Je me fie, 
II ne peut que me mener bien ; 
Aussi Je n'apprehende rien. 

The castle of Chinon, where the ruined and 
desperate king, with the remnant of a court about 
him, waited for the fall of Orleans as the signal for 
flight, is in Touraine. In order to reach it, Jeanne 
had to cross from the east to the west of France, a 
distance of one hundred and fifty leagues. 

During the first day's journey the little troop 
followed a route which is still shown as the way of 
La Pucelle, and halted for the night at the great 
Abbey of St. Urban, in Champagne. The next 
day, after hearing Mass, they resumed their journey, 
and soon entered the great level heart of France, 
and found themselves in a region entirely in the 
power of the English or the Burgundians. Nor 
was this the only danger they had to guard against ; 
it was the month of February, when the spring 
floods had swept away many of the bridges, and 
submerged roads, so that they had to cross many 
raging floods in boats. Their only resting-place 
was the ground in the forest, where they lay down 
in their armor. Amid these terrible hardships, and 


continual fears, worn with fatigue, suffering from 
the reaction that inevitably follows enthusiasm, and 
fearful of their reception at court, it is not to be 
wondered at that the two cavaliers often questioned 
the wisdom of their undertaking. But no difficulty 
or danger had power to disturb Jeanne's heroic 
serenity, or move her from her purpose. " Be not 
afraid," she would say to her companions when 
they betrayed alarm : " my brothers in Paradise 
have told me what to do ; it is they that are con- 
ducting us. It is for this I Avas born." 

She felt only one privation ; that of not being 
able to hear Mass every day. In compensation for 
this the Voices spoke to her more frequently than 
ever, and she passed most of the pauses for rest 
and refreshment in prayer. She also found great 
delight in giving alms to the poor people on the 
way ; the generous Sieur de Metz having placed 
his purse at her disposal for this purpose. 

Traveling mostly by night, and by the most un- 
frequented routes, the little troop finally reached 
the Loire ;' crossing the great river, they landed in 
the little city of Gien, and found themselves in a 
region still faithful to Charles Seventh. The 
Maid's arrival in this loyal little town was hailed with 
enthusiasm, and a messenger was despatched to Or- 
leans, to inform the inhabitants that a virgin from 
Lorraine was on the way to deliver them. From 
Gien, Jeanne proceeded to the village of St. Cath- 
arine de Fierbois, in Touraine, not far from Chinon. 
Here Jeanne heard three masses in succession, in 
honor of St. Catharine, the patron saint of the 


church, and one of her angehc counsellors. She 
then dictated a letter to the king, asking for an 
interview with him, and without waiting for a reply, 
advanced from Fierbois to Chinon, which she 
entered at midnight, with her escort, eleven days 
after leaving Vaucouleurs. 

In the soft climate of Touraine, the garden of 
France ; in the valley of the Loire, between Tours 
and Saumur, with the sparkling little Vienne at its 
feet, stands the great mediaeval fortress of Chinon. 
It is now forsaken, and crumbling inch by inch, but 
when Jeanne gazed up at it from the little town 
below, the lilies of France were waving over its 
great feudal towers, and its huge enclosure, vast as 
a city, was the scene of busy life, for it was the 
home of the wandering king and his court. 

It was a court in which luxury and poverty, 
piety and frivolity, gaiety and despair, were 
strangely mingled. Two queens, Mary of Anjou, 
Charles Seventh's unhappy wife, and Yolande of 
Aragon, her mother, kept state there, and the corri- 
dors and apartments were brightened by the pre- 
sence of their ladies of honor, as well as by that of 
the nobles and courtiers and pages who still clung 
to the fallen fortunes of their legitimate sovereign. 
Here were no sights or sounds of war ; the magnifi- 
cent apartments echoed only the sound of the lute 
and madrigal, the merry jest and light laughter, 
and witnessed, nightly, splendid revels. "Truly," a 
wise man said of him, " no one loses a kingdom more 
gaily than Charles Seventh." 

The story of the inspired peasant maid had long 


since reached the court and roused conflicting 
opinions. Yolande of Aragon and her daughter, 
both good and devout women, were firm believers 
in Jeanne's inspiration, and pleased that the 
Heavenly assistance should come through a woman. 
Charles' wisest counsellors, on the other hand, ad- 
vised him to pay no heed to one who, if not an 
envoy of the prince of darkness, was probably the 
victim of her own delusion. The chief of these 
ministers waslaTremouille, Jeanne's greatest enemy 
throughout her brief career ; whose great object 
was to win back to France the Duke of Burgundy 
by diplomatic means, and who seems, in conse- 
quence, to have steadi-ly discouraged all fighting. 

Charles himself was an indolent, timid, easily dis- 
couraged prince, who was at this time, no doubt, bit- 
terly rueing the fact that he had commanded, or at 
least approved of, the murder of the Duke of Bur- 
gundy which, from the very threshold of peace, had 
hurled the country back into all the horrors of the 
civil war that was France's real misery. To add to 
this, he was tortured by a secret doubt as to whether 
he really was the heir to the throne ; a doubt that 
was very reasonable with such a woman as Isabel of 
Bavaria for a mother ; who had crowned her infa- 
mous career by betraying France and her own son in 
the Treaty of Troyes. Was it possible, he must 
often have asked himself in the bitterness of his 
heart, that Isabel could have thus cast him aside, 
unless she had known that she was not really taking 
from him his own ? 

He seems from the first to have been inclined 


towards receiving Jeanne. She could not deceive 
him ; he had a supreme test that would decide her 
character. If she solved the awful doubt that 
gnawed at his heart, but which he had never 
breathed to any human being, he would acknowledge 
her as the envoy of Heaven. He signified to the 
Count de Vendome that he would receive the Maid. 

The great audience hall is now in ruins, but on 
the evening of the ninth of March, 1429, which 
was Mi-Careme, it was in the full glory of its me- 
diaeval magnificence, lit by fifty torches, and filled 
with- more than three hundred splendidly attired 
courtiers, and ladies of honor, in attendance upon 
the king and the two queens. To the light and 
sceptical court, the coming of the inspired peasant 
Maid was a delightful novelty, especially in these 
days when so many unpleasant things were happen- 
ing. The hopes of the queens beat high ; they had 
advocated Jeanne's cause from the first, and ex- 
pected much from her reception. As for the king, 
those present were far from suspecting with what 
feelings he waited her coming ! He had signified, 
no doubt with a smile, his intention of seeing if the 
Maid would be able to distinguish him away from 
the throne, and motioning one of the courtiers to 
take his place upon it, descended and mingled 
with the throng. 

At length the Count de Vendome appeared, and 
by his side a slight figure in a page's dress, moving 
with a natural grace and dignity, and making the 
inclinations and obeisances which etiquette re- 
quired in the presence, " as if she had been born at 
court," says one who was present. 


She paid no attention to the pretended king, but 
turned aside, and going directly towards Charles, 
knelt before him and said, " Gentle Dauphin," it was 
observed that she did not address him as king, " I am 
called Jeanne la Pucelle, and am sent to you by the 
King of Heaven to tell you that you shall be 
anointed and crowned at Rheims, and shall be the 
lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who is the 
true King of France." Deeply impressed, Charles 
withdrew with her into a recess, and there he 
heard in that voice which would seem to have 
caught some of the angelic cadences, so often 
is its delightful quality referred to by those who 
heard it — he received the assurance for lack of 
which his heart had been breaking, and the powers 
of his mind scattering themselves in folly and 

" I have to tell you, on the part of my Lord, 
that you are the true heir of France, and the son 
of the king. He has sent me to conduct you to 
Rheims to receive your anointing and your 
crown, if you will." 

"If you will!" Had Jeanne read his timid vac- 
illating character in Charles' face ? Did she realize, 
through her prophetic instinct, that in Him, the 
king, whom God had taken her from home and 
happiness to serve, she was to find the real obstacle 
to the accomplishment of her work ? As a sign 
that she spoke the truth, Jeanne told the king of 
something which he had done, and which, as he 
told his advisers afterwards, was known to none 
save God and himself. After a long interview, the 


king dismissed Jeanne with great respect, and 
confided her to the care of the wife of Gillaume Bcl- 
lin, lieutenant of Gaucourt, at Chinon, a lady of 
spotless reputation. Jeanne was given an apart- 
ment in the tower of the Castle of Couldray, the 
home of the Bellins, and watched over by her 
hostess as if she had been her own daughter. 

One night, long afterwards, when Jeanne had been 
for years a saint in heaven, the king told the Sire de 
Boissy, a gentleman who was devoted to him, and 
who, according to the strange custom of the time, 
shared the bed of his royal master, the secret that 
Jeanne had revealed to him. During the time of 
his greatest adversity, she told him, despairing of 
finding any help for the evil that filled the king- 
dom, he went alone one day into his oratory, and, 
without uttering a word, prayed to God that if he 
were really the heir of the royal house of France, 
He would restore to him, and defend his kingdom, 
and that if he were not. He would save him from 
prison and death, and allow him to escape into Spain 
or Scotland. 



Make known to us that which is to be, and we shall know if 
thou art of God. Isaias xir. 

After the sign Avhich Jeanne had given him, 
Charles himself firmly believed in the Maid's divine 
mission. Still, as the tried warriors, who had main- 
tained his cause with so much bravery for many 
years, rejected the proffered help with laughter and 
derision; and such men as Jacques Gelu, the cele- 
brated Archbishop of Embrun, and Regnault de 
Chartres, Archbishop of Rheims, and chancellor of 
France, wrote to him in a manner which their high 
rank in the church and state, and their long devotion 
to the cause of France, entitled them to assume, beg- 
ging him not to lightly trust to one who at best 
was probably but a visionary, he decided to subject 
the Maid to further proof. Meanwhile, the court, 
taking its cue from the king, hailed her as the Sa- 
vior of France, and the knights vied with each other, 
in teaching her how to hold herself in the saddle, 
how to manage her horse, how to break a lance, and 
all other martial exercises, and were delighted with 
the courage, grace, and strength, which she showed, 
as if the soul of some dead hero lived asrain in 


this maiden of seventeen years. Among the cava- 
liers who thus essayed to teach the peasant maid 
the arts of war, was the young duke d'Alen^on, 
the son-in-law of the poet-duke of Orleans, who had 
been languishing in an English prison ever since the 
battle of Agincourt, thirteen years before, and 
whose deliverance seems to have been, later on, 
one of Jeanne's dreams, at least. 

D'Alengon himself had been made a prisoner at 
the disastrous battle of Verneuil four years previous, 
and, after having bravely resisted all the seductions 
employed to win him over to the cause of Henry 
Sixth, had just obtained his liberty by the payment 
of a ransom which almost ruined hiiTj. He was 
hunting at St. Florent, when the news of the won- 
derful Maid's coming to court reached him, and 
he at once hastened to Chinon to see her. Jeanne, 
who seems to have had a special love for the 
Orleans branch of the royal family, greeted him 
warmly, saying: "You are very welcome ; the more 
princes of the royal blood that we have, the better." 
He, on his part, seems to have firmly believed in 
Jeanne from the first, and remained to the last, one 
of her most zealous supporters. 

At length, a commission, composed of the Bishops 
of Castres, Poitiers, and Montpellier, was formed to 
inquire into the life of the Maid. They came to 
see her in her apartments in the tower of Couldray 
Castle, and she responded to their questions with 
the same ease and firmness, the same assurance of 
her divine mission, as she had shown to the king. 
Gerard Machet, bishop of Castres, and the confes- 


sor of the king, was one of the first to declare that 
she was the virgin of the prophecy. After long 
and minute interrogation, the commission made a 
favorable report to Charles Seventh. 

The opponents of the maid, however, refused to 
regard even this as final, so it was decided to subject 
her .to further proof. After the treaty of Troyes, 
eight years before, all the patriot members of the 
University and the Parliament of Paris had fled 
from that city and taken refuge in Poitiers. Thither 
Jeanne was sent, in order that she might be ex- 
amined by the most learned of these. However 
trying this delay must have been to her, she bore it 
with resignation, and courageously set forth on her 
journey southward. On the way, she often said to 
those who accompanied her : " In the name of God, 
I know that I shall have a hard time in Poitiers, but 
God will aid me." 

On her arrival in that cit}^, Jeanne was confided 
to the care of Jean Rabateau, an advocate of Parlia- 
ment, whose wife enjoyed a high reputation for vir- 
tue. It was in his home that Jeanne received a 
visit from the masters of the faculty of theology. 
One of them, Pierre de Versailles, had described 
himself, when sent by Charles Sixth to the Council 
of Constance, fourteen years before, as Brother 
Pierre de Versailles, of the diocese of Paris, of noble 
family, monk of Saint Denis in France, of the Order 
of Saint Benedict, unworthy professor of theology, 
prior of the Priory of St. Peter in Chaumont, and 
ambassador of the Most Christian King of France. 
Whether he had added any more honors to this long 


list in the meantime, does not appear, but it is 
evident from the manner in which he is referred to 
in the RehabiHtation Process, that he was a man 
whose personal character caused him to be greatly- 
loved and respected, and an ardent patriot. 

He it was who addressed Jeanne in this prelimi- 
nary visit, telling her that they had been sent by 
the king. " I know," Jeanne answered with her 
usual sweetness, "you have been sent to question 
me. I do not know A from B," but she added 
firmly, " Our Lord has other books besides yours." 
To the question as to why she had come, she an- 
swered : " I have come, on the part of the king, to 
raise the siege of Orleans, and to conduct the king 
to Rheims, where he shall be anointed and crowned. 
But before that it is necessary for me to write to 
the English, and order them to depart. God wills 
it so." Then without waiting for further question- 
ing, she turned to one of the doctors, Jean Erault, 
and asked him if he had paper and ink. On his 
replying that he had, she bade him write as follows : 
" You, Suffolk, Glacidas, (it was thus the French 
called Glasdale) and la Poule, I command you, in 
the name of the King of Heaven, to depart to Eng- 

A few days later, Jeanne appeared before her 
judges, the chief of whom was Regnault de Chartres, 
Archbishop of Rheims, and Chancellor of France. 
Associated with him were the Inquisitor-General, 
Turelure, of the Dominicans ; deCombarel, Bishop of 
Poitiers ; Leroy, Bishop of Montpellier, Pierre de 
Versailles, and a vast array of theologians and doc- 


tors, among whom the Orders of St. Benedict, St. 
Francis, and the Prophet Elias were represented. 
Magistrates and members of the king's council 
made up the rest of this imposing assembly, before 
whom the simple peasant maid might well have 
trembled, had she not been sustained by superna- 
tural power. But as it was, she exhibited the same 
firmness that she had shown at Court, and parried the 
keen thrusts of these trained minds, with wisdom 
and simplicity. Thus when Aimeri of the Domini- 
cans said to her : " If God wills, as thou sayest, to 
deliver the people of France, what need has he of 

" The warriors will fight, and God will give the 
battle," was the wise and ready answer of the maid. 

But Jeanne was a creature of action and the open, 
air, and the long sessions of the Court, and the 
mental strain to which she was subjected in an- 
swering the questions of the judges at last began 
to wear on her, as is shown by the brusqueness of 
some of her replies, as that, for instance to Seguin of 
the Dominicans. He was a native of Limousin, a 
province of central France, and had kept the accent, 
and even the dialect, of his native place, which was 
very different from that heard on the borders of 
the Meuse. So when he inquired what language 
her Voices spoke in, she answered : " In a better 
one than yours." 

" Dost thou believe in God ? " asked the austere 

" I do," answered Jeanne. 

" Well, God wills not that we put faith in thy 
words, unless thou givest us a sign." 


Jeanne answered : " I am not come to Poitiers to 
give signs, or work wonders ; my sign is to raise the 
siege of Orleans. Let them give me soldiers, few 
or many, and I will go and give you the sign that 
shall make you believe in me. ' She added that 
the Voices had told her that the English would 
raise the siege of Orleans, that the king would be 
crowned at Rheims, and that the Duke of Orleans 
would return from England. 

It was not only in regard to her Voices that Jeanne 
was examined ; her whole life, from her very infancy, 
was subjected to the closest scrutiny, two Francis- 
cans being sent to Domremy for that purpose. The 
wife of Jeanne Rabateau, the advocate-general, with 
whom she lodged, and other ladies of condition, 
were examined in regard to her manners and habits 
at that time, and all testified that the young girl, 
humble in her demeanor, and simple in her language, 
shared her time between work and prayer. 

Of the Process at Poitiers, there remains only a 
brief resum6, or, strictly speaking, only the conclu- 
sion of the judges, which Charles Seventh made 
public. There was, however, a full report of the 
proceedings there, for Jeanne told her judges at 
Rouen that she wished they had a copy of the book 
that was at Poitiers. What became of this book ? 
Was it destroyed as so many other mementoes and 
relics of Jeanne were, during the mad time of the 
Revolution when everything that the nation had 
hitherto held sacred was tram.pled under foot? Or 
does it still exist among mouldering volumes of me- 
diaeval lore, on the dusty shelf of some forgotten 


library, awaiting the iiand of the patient investigator 
that shall bring it back to the light? However 
this may be, we must content ourselves with the 
resume of the proceedings of the Court. In it the 
doctors commend the king for not having, in the ter- 
rible state of the Kingdom, either rejected or 
accepted the offers of the Maid, but sought in her 
life and deeds, for a proof of the divinity of her 
mission. During six weeks (since her coming ta 
Court,) she has been carefully watched, and visited 
by all sorts of persons, and no one has seen anything 
in her save humility, purity, devotion, honesty, and 
simplicity. After close examination, the Report 
goes on to state, there has been found nothing 
in the young girl save what conforms to a true 
Christian and a sincere Catholic. To the cjues- 
tions of her judges, she has returned ans\vers so 
prudent that they seemed inspired. Taking there- 
fore into consideration her holy life, and reputation^ 
and the desperate state of the good city of Orleans, 
which has now no hope save in God, the judges are 
of opinion that the king should accept the services 
of the Maid. 

It must have been a sore trial to Jeanne, this 
delay of three weeks at Poitiers, with the news 
from Orleans getting worse and worse, and her 
longing to be at the work, for which she had been 
sent, growing stronger and stronger; but it was the 
Divine Wisdom which ordained it ; so that even if 
there had been no Rehabilitation Process, the ver- 
dict of Poitiers would have annulled that of Rouen, 
and proved Jeanne's justification before the world. 


And this not only because the judges of Poitiers 
were patriots, and the judges of Rouen, traitors; 
not only because the teachings of ecclesiastical law- 
were faithfully followed at Poitiers, and openly 
defied at Rouen ; what stamped the verdict of the 
court at Rouen as null and void was the fact that its 
chief judge, Cauchon, opened a case, already decided 
upon by his MetropoHtan, the Archbishop of 

After delivering its verdict, the Court of Poitiers 
gave Jeanne letters of credence, and thus with the 
voices of the wisest and most powerful in the land 
joining themselves to the Heavenly Voices in 
promising her support and assistance, Jeanne went 
forth upon her mission. 


" Truly doing, thou shalt do, and prevailing, thou shalt prevail," 

In the States-General convened at Chinon by 
Charles Seventh, in September, 1428, six months 
before Jeanne came to court, the Clergy, who 
formed the Second Order of that body, had recom- 
mended that in every notable church in France over 
which Charles still possessed authority, there be a 
procession every Friday for the success of the 
armies of the king. The faithful were also coun- 
selled to make pilgrimages to the celebrated shrines 
for the same purpose. A favorite one of these, up 
to the time of the Revolution, was that of Notre 
Dame du Puy-en-Velay, especially during the years 
of Jubilee or Great Pardons, which were those in 
which the feast of the Annunciation coincided with 
the Mystery of the Redemption, or in other words, 
when the twenty-fifth of March fell on Good Friday. 

This was the case in 1429, so the magistrates of 
Puy prepared for an immense number of pilgrims. 
" Under correction of those who know better," says 
the quaint chronicle of the town, " never were the 
times so full of perils and alarms." And then the 
good burghers go on to beg of each one to put his 
conscience in a good state, to forgive all injuries, 


and to beseech God and Our Blessed Lady to put 
an end to the wars and tribulations that affected 
the land. The king is to be supplicated to write 
to the Duke of Burgundy, and to all the other great 
vassals of the crown, asking them to guarantee the 
safety of the pilgrims in their territories ; and to 
warrant, on his part, a safe conduct to all of their 
people, and even to the EngHsh, who wish to come 
to the Great Pardon. Thus we see the spirit of 
Christianity making breathing-spaces amid the 
eternal wars of the Middle Ages. 

Among the throng of pilgrims that visited Puy, 
were Jeanne's mother, and two of her guides to 
Chinon. It is probable that Jeanne and her mother 
had arranged to meet at the shrine, and that when 
the examination at Poitiers prevented the Maid 
from carrying out this plan, she sent her two guides 
in her place. It must have been a terrible disap- 
pointment for Jeanne to have missed this opportu- 
nity of seeing her mother, and made her realize 
that the path of her high and wonderful destiny 
was a thorny one ! Her mother's heart, too, must 
have been pierced by anguish, after her long jour- 
ney from the borders of the Meuse, to find only 
disappointment awaiting her. She seems, how- 
ever, to have been much consoled by a monk who 
was at Puy, named Brother Pasquerel, of the Her- 
mit Brotherhood of Saint Augustine, who, shortly 
after, appears as Jeanne's chaplain. Had Dame 
Isabel heard of him, and sought him out to beg him 
to go to Jeanne in case the king should retain her ; 
or had he been already appointed to the Maid's 


service ; and stopping at Puy on his way to join 
her, met by chance her grieving mother ? 

Meanwhile, Jeanne had been brought from Poi- 
tiers to Chinon, where the queens and their princi- 
pal ladies subjected her to another examination in 
regard to her past life. From this trial she came 
out as triumphant as from that of Poitiers. 

From Chinon, Jeanne was sent to Tours, a city on 
the Loire, not far from Chinon. Northeast of it, on 
the same great river, was the city of Orleans whose 
deliverance was to be the sign of her heavenly mis- 
sion. At Tours, she was received into the house of 
Jean Dupuy, one of the notables of the city, and 
steps were taken to equip her for military service. 
The king had a sutt of white armor, inlaid with 
silver, forged for her, in token of the purity of her 
life ; and the Duke d'Alengon presented her with a 
magnificent coal-black charger. By the counsels of 
the Celestial Voices, she carefully described to a 
painter of Touraine, Heuvnes Polnoir, the standard 
which she wished him to paint for her. It was to 
be of white linen, embroidered with silk ; the field 
of silver, sown with fleur-de-lis ; with the figure of 
Our Savior, seated on the clouds, holding the globe 
in his hand, and on either side, an angel presenting 
him a fleur-de-lis, which He blessed. It was to 
have the inscription, jESUS, Maria. The reverse 
side of the banner was to show the crown of France, 
held by two angels. 

The sword which was to complete her outfit 
was also the subject of angelic revelation. While 
hearing Mass in the church of St. Catherine of 


Fierbois, on her way to Chinon, Jeanne had re- 
marked the tomb of a knight in the chapel behind 
the altar. The Voices told her that a sword would 
be found in the grave of this knight, marked with five 
crosses, and that it was the weapon destined for her. 
The clergy of the church, accordingly, opened the 
tomb, and found the sword, as directed. The people 
of Fierbois, delighted that the sword, which was to 
be borne by the Heavenly Maid, should be chosen 
from their city, subscribed a sum sufficient to fur- 
nish a magnificent scabbard of crimson velvet, 
embroidered with fleur-de-lis, and after the sword 
had been cleaned and polished, it was sent, inclosed 
in this, to her. The people of Tours presented a 
second scabbard of cloth of gold. 

One of the ablest biographers of Jeanne d'Arc 
remarks that the discovery of the sword produced 
on the popular mind the same effect that the revel- 
ation of the king's secret had produced on him — it 
was to the people the sign of the divinity of her 

The sword was very dear to Jeanne, coming, as it 
did, from the Church of St. Catherine, her heavenly 
counsellor, but, as she declared at her trial, she 
loved her standard forty times better. The standard 
was, indeed, much more than the sword, the sign 
and instrument of victory for her, for she never 
killed any one, and in order to avoid all possibility 
of doing so in the fury of battle, always faced the 
enemy with the great standard in her hand. More- 
over, she had been directed by her heavenly guides 
to " take the standard on the part of God and carry 


it boldly." It must have been a strange thing for 
the generals and other officers to hear the general- 
in-chief of the army announce her intention of car- 
rying the standard, but the whole thing was so 
strange that they probably only shrugged their 
shoulders and let the peasant girl have her way. 
The carrying of this heavy standard also shows an- 
other thing — that Jeanne was not the weak, hyster- 
ical creature that some authors would make her; 
but had a strong, sound body, the home of a sane 

When we take into consideration the time, with 
its belief in sorcery, the wonderful story of the 
Maid, and of her intercourse with unseen powers, 
we may well believe that Jeanne, when fully 
equipped, seemed to the enemy a being not quite of 
earth ; and that at the sight of the slim figure, in 
shining armor, on the coal-black charger, with the 
folds of the great white banner streaming out above 
the silver helmet, they fled in terror. Indeed, 
thousands of them, who had seen the banner, could 
not have told what device it bore, because they had 
never stopped to look. 

A mihtary household was also formed for the 
Maid. At its head was Jean d'AuIon, a knight of 
mature age, and irreproachable character, who never 
left her until forced to do so after both were taken 
prisoners. She had two noble pages, Louis de 
Contes, and Raymond, two heralds, a steward, and 
two valets. Jean de Metz, and Bertrand de 
Poulengy, the two faithful gentlemen who had es- 
corted her to Chinon, and her brother Jean, were 
also inembers of her household. 


An unexpected joy came to Jeanne during those 
busy days of preparation, in the arrival of her 
youngest brother, Pierre, who brought her her pa- 
rents' pardon and blessing, and greetings from the 
village-folk, exultant at the fact that from their little 
hamlet had come forth the virgin of prophecy. 

Besides these loving messages, which must have 
been like balm to Jeanne's wounded heart, Pierre 
brought his sister a firm and faithful friend who re- 
mained with her until she was captured ; Brother 
Pasquerel, whom he had met at Anch^, near Tours, 
and who, as having' so lately seen her mother, at 
Puy, must have been peculiarly acceptable to her. 

" I have brought thee this good father," said 
Pierre ; " when thou knowest him, thou wilt love 

Jeanne answered that she had already heard of 
him, and begged him to hear her confession, and 
celebrate Mass the following morning for her. A 
little later, Nicholas Rom^e, a professed monk of 
the Order of Citeaux, and a distant relative of 
Jeanne's mother, also became her chaplain. 

Jeanne now pushed forward the preparations for 
the expedition to Orleans with all her energy. We 
find her at Chatelh^rault, at Poitiers, at Tours, at 
Florent-lis-Saumur, at Chinon, trying to remove ob- 
stacles, and accelerate matters. Through the mists 
of history, we can see the struggle already begin- 
ning between the adversaries and the partisans of 
the Maid. Yolande of Aragon, queen of Sicily, the 
king's mother-in-law, and the young duke d'Alengon, 
continued to be her chief supporters. Yolande gave 


large sums of money, and took infinite trouble to 
forward the expedition ; d'Alengon and the brave 
La Hire declared they would follow whithersoever 
she led. 

But side by side with these, rises the figure of 
George de la Tremouille, the powerful royal favorite, 
jealous of any one v/hom the king honored, and 
opposed to a vigorous prosecution of the war, be- 
cause it interfered with his political plans in regard 
to Burgundy. With him stand the courtiers in his 
train, and the captains, irritated at the importance 
attained, at their expense, by the rustic little adven- 
turess. Here was the source of the enmities and 
intrigues which stood in the way of all Jeanne's 
demands, hampered her in all her undertakings, and 
delayed the accomplishment of her prophecies for 
many years. 

Another figure of the time is that of Jacques 
Caeur, the great capitalist, the Vanderbilt of his 
day, whose beautiful house, the wonder of his day, 
is still to be seen at Bourges ; whose marvelous 
energy opened to him so many avenues of wealth, 
and who, after supplying the king's needs for many 
years, was basely sacrificed by him to the greed of 
his rapacious courtiers. He it was, no doubt, who 
now supplied most of the sinews of war, and thanks 
to him and the Maid's untiring energy, after about 
five weeks, the expedition was ready to start for 
Orleans. It was a heavy convoy of provisions, pro- 
tected by a body of ten or twelve thousand men, 
commanded by Marshal de Boussac. Under him 
were Xaintrailles, La Hire, and several other tried 


captains. On the twenty-fifth of April, Jeanne left 
Tours for Blois, whence the expedition was to start, 
accompanied by de Chartres, chancellor of France, 
and de Gaucourt, governor of Orleans. On her ar- 
rival at Blois, she was hailed with great enthusiasm 
by the soldiers and the people ; for she was regarded 
by them as the hope of the nation. And now 
Jeanne wrought the most marvelous work of her 
life, filled with wonders as it was. 

The moral corruption prevailing in France at this 
time is terrible even to read of ; and, as usual, this 
evil state of things was intensified in the army. 
Jeanne looked at the soldiers, shouting themselves 
hoarse in welcome of her, with the eyes of a saint 
as well as those of a warrior. It was not men like 
these, black with sin, that she would lead to the holy 
victory that the Voices had promised her ; it must 
be a penitent and purified host that would follow 
the standard of Christ. 

By her orders, Brother Pasquerel had had made 
at Tours, a great red banner, on which was repre- 
sented Jesus hanging on the cross. Every morning 
and evening a number of priests gathered about 
this banner, to sing hymns, and hear the confessions 
of those who presented themselves for that purpose. 

All vicious characters of both sexes were driven 
from the camp ; charms, cards, and dice were com- 
mitted to the flames ; oaths and blasphemies were 
strictly forbidden. 

What had given victory to the English for so 
many years was not the inferiority of France's 
armies, for she possessed as valiant soldiers, and as 


great leaders, as any that the island nation could send 
into the field, but lack of unity of action. Dunois, 
who was as great a soldier as Bedford, realized this, 
but could not remedy it. The royal authority was 
equally powerless ; the king's captains were not ac- 
customed to obey the king. " It required the 
authority of God himself to conquer these savage, 
indomitable wills," says Michelet. *' War had 
changed men into savage beasts ; it was necessary 
to change these beasts again into men. Christians, 
obedient subjects. Some of these Armagnac sol- 
diers were perhaps the most ferocious men that have 
ever existed." 

There was one, and only one, appeal to be made 
to these men. They had gone beyond the pale of 
humanity, of nature even ; but they had never ut- 
terly broken, so to speak, with religion. They 
firmly believed that in Jeanne they were to see the 
messenger of God, and when she came among them, 
in all the freshness of her youth and virginal 
purity, the sight of her humble, holy life, and above 
all, the good that emanated from her saintly soul, 
rendered her empire over them complete. They 
were converted, approached the sacraments, and be- 
gan to lead a new life. S'ome of the Maid's youth 
and angelic purity seemed to be diffused among 
these scarred and wicked veterans ; they found 
themselves full of strength and hope and good will, 
they accepted unmurmuringly, the rigid discipline 
which she established, and stood ready to follow 
wherever she might lead, were it to Orleans or to 
Jerusalem. The standard of the Maid had become 
the oriflamme of France. 



Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writ- 
ing of human history began, Jeanne d'Arc is the only person of 
either sex who has ever held supreme command of the mili- 
tary forces of a nation at the age of seventeen. 



" I love the judgment of the people ; mediocre judges of 
mediocre things, they are great judges of great things." 

On the twenty-seventh of April, at dawn, the 
army marched out of Blois, with Brother Pasquerel 
at its head, carrying the crimson banner, and chant- 
ing with the other priests, the Veni Creator. The 
way lay along the Loire, through a country always 
beautiful, but exquisitely so in Spring, the loveliest 
season in France. Into this fair and smiling 
province of Touraine, the long war had not pene- 
trated ; and the land, bright with fresh, tender ver- 
dure, and dotted with compact farmhouses, and 
old gray chateaux, swept gently down to the majestic 
river, moving towards the distant ocean in all the 
majesty of its Spring fullness ; and reflecting in its 
clear depths, the aspen, poplar, willow and walnut 
trees that bordered its banks. 

It must have been a strange sight, that army, pre- 
ceded by monks and choristers, chanting sacred 
hymns, and having in the midst of the general-in- 
chief's staff, instead of the bronzed, dark-mailed 
warrior who usually rode there, a slight young figure, 
bearing a great white banner, from whose silver 
armor the sunlight flashed in a thousand rays, that 
must have made it visible for an immense distance 


As the Maid passed, she was hailed by enthusiastic 
multitudes as the Savior of France, and numbers 
hastened to swell the ranks of her army. Every 
morning an altar was erected, and Mass celebrated, 
at which many of the soldiers communicated along 
with Jeanne. Then, after an exhortation from some 
holy friar, to deserve the blessing of heaven by 
the goodness of their lives, the army resumed its 

Blois and Orleans were both on the northern side 
of the Loire, but Jeanne does not seem to have been 
aware of this fact. She had demanded to be brought 
to Orleans by way of Beauce, that is to say, by the 
north bank of the river, on which Orleans stood and 
where, naturally, the English had their strongest 
fortifications, and greatest force. 

Dunois, who was in command at Orleans, would 
not consent to this plan, and sent La Hire to Blois, 
to meet Jeanne, and tell her escort to cross the 
Loire, and conduct her by the south bank. They 
did so, but as they advanced near Orleans, struck 
inland, for the English had not only erected forti- 
fications at the end of the bridge which led from 
Orleans across the Loire, but had seized the con- 
vent of Les Augustins, which stood at the distance 
of a pleasant walk beyond the bridge, and built a 
great tower over it, out of the range of whose 
bristling guns, the leaders of Jeanne's army, with its 
precious convoy, were anxious to keep. 

It was not until they had arrived at Olivet 
opposite Orleans, but considerably inland, that 
Jeanne found that she had been deceived. She 


had no doubt thought that once at the head of the 
army, her troubles would be over ; but now she per- 
haps realized that they were only beginning. When 
she reproached the leaders for deceiving her they 
probably threw the blame on Dunois. She wasted 
no more words, but ordered them to take her across 
the river at once. After consultation, it was decided 
that the best place to cross was at Checy, two 
leagues above Orleans, and thither they marched, 

Meanwhile, within the beleaguered city, Jeanne 
had been the hope that sustained the people in 
their desperate situation. It was now seven 
months since the city had been invested by the 
English. At first the inhabitants had borne the 
siege cheerfully, almost gaily, but after the disas- 
trous battle of the Herrings, they began to lose 
heart. The death of Salisbury, who, it is said, was 
killed by the discharge from a gun, discharged at ran- 
dom by a schoolboy, had placed the conduct of the 
siege in the far abler hands of Talbot. He built 
the formidable bastiles or towers which commanded 
the city, three of which were named respectively 
Paris, London and Rouen, and conceived the pro- 
ject of inclosing it in a line of similar fortifica- 
tions which would enable a comparatively small 
force to cut it off from all communication with the 
outside world. This was the terrifying prospect be- 
fore the Orleanists, when rumors of the wonderful 
Maid who had crossed France to deliver their city, 
reached their ears. They implored Dunois to send 
trusty messengers to Chinon, to see if the story were 


true, and when these returned with the assurance 
that the Heavenly Maid was indeed coming with 
an army to their rehef, their enthusiasm knew no 

On the twenty-ninth of April, a messenger an- 
nounced to Dunois that Jeanne was at Checy, wait- 
ing to cross the Loire. He at once directed a large 
force to attack the bastile of St. Loup, so as to draw 
off the attention of the enemy, while he crossed 
the river in a small boat, and advanced to meet 

Dunois was a great seigneur, of the royal blood 
of Orleans, though he bore the bar sinister on his 
escutcheon, but Jeanne, who knew neither fear nor 
shyness where the commands of her Voices were 
concerned, addressed him with little ceremony, al- 
most brusquely. " Are you Dunois ? " 

" I am," answered the famous warrior, with the 
military salute, with which, by this time, Jeanne 
had become so familiar, " and I am rejoiced to see 
you ! " 

" Is it you," answered Jeanne, " who have ordered 
them to bring me by this route, instead of conduct- 
ing me to Talbot and the English ? " 

" It is," answered Dunois, " because I, and those 
wiser than I, have judged that it was the better and 
surer route." 

" In the name of God," cried Jeanne, " the counsel 
of God is surer and wiser than yours ! You have 
tried to deceive me, and you have deceived your- 
selves ; for I bring you the best succor that ever 
was brought to knight, town, or city ; it is the 


pleasure of God, and the succor of the King of 

It was seen that Jeanne was right, and that Dun- 
ois and his advisers had committed a grave mis- 
take. The wind began to blow violently, making 
the river so rough that the transports for the con- 
veyance of the soldiers and the convoy could not 
cross it to Checy, and the troops and provisions were 
delayed on the river-bank, exposed to the fire of the 
English batteries. 

The leaders grew uneasy, probably fearing a 
repetition of the dismal Herring affair ; but Jeanne, 
after having rebuked their deception of her, went 
aside, and asked for counsel from her Voices. Re- 
turning to the leaders, she said : ** In the name of 
God all will enter the city." As she spoke, they 
saw a few boats gaining the shore. Jeanne ordered 
these to be loaded to their capacity with provisions ; 
and then decided to return with the army to Blois, 
cross by the bridge there, and advance on Orleans 
by Beauce, as she had been directed to do. But 
Dunois would not hear of her going back ; the prck 
visions, he told her, would be little welcome in Or- 
leans without the Maid. Jeanne hesitated to sepa- 
rate herself from her soldiers who, as she said, 
" had confessed, and were full of penitence and 
good will ; " and who, away from her, she feared, 
might relapse into their old evil ways. They re- 
assured her, however, by the most solemn promises, 
and Jeanne at length consented to go on with 
Dunois and La Hire, and two hundred lances as 
guard for the convoy. They embarked, but the 


wind was against them, and the heavy boats loaded 
with beeves and corn, made but little headway on 
the rough and swollen river. Those on board began 
to grow alarmed, but Jeanne said : " Have patience ; 
all will go well ; " and at once the wind changed, 
and the boats made the voyage in safety, " in 
spite of the English, who afforded no hindrance 
whatever," as Jeanne had predicted. 

In the meantime, Orleans was beside itself with 
joy at Jeanne's approach. All day long there had 
been rumors of her coming, but nothing definite 
was known, as Dunoiskept his movements as secret 
as possible. There was delightful expectancy in 
the air ; the people, with that wonderful recupera- 
tive force characteristic of the French nation, had 
already forgotten the privations and terrors of the 
many months of siege ; the city took on a holiday 
air ; the people, attired in their best, paraded the 
streets, hiding, with happy smiles, the ravages of 
hunger in their worn faces. Their sufferings were 
over ; little recked they now of the grim towers and 
great guns, menacing their beautiful city ; for was 
not the deliverer at hand, even at their gates ? 

And so the long hours went by till the day 
faded, and the long spring twilight filled the narrow 
streets with shadows, as the ever increasing throng 
of knights, gentlemen, priests, burghers, men-at-arms, 
women, and children, surged through them. Lights 
began to appear in the beautiful old houses, till at 
length they stood illuminated from street to roof in 
Her honor. Then the great pile of the Cathedral 
of the Holy Cross, close by the Burgundy gate, 


shone out, a mass of light, above the houses, 
and it was noised about, that it was by that gate 
she would enter. Thither, accordingly, the dense 
throng forced its way ; and there it was at last re 
warded, for, just after night had fallen, the fanfare 
of trumpets was heard, and then the great gate 
turned, and high in the blaze of a thousand torches 
was seen the great white standard, borne by the 
Maid's ecuyer, Jean d'Aulon. Then, amid shouts of 
joy and welcome that seemed to rend the sky, came 
the silver-clad Maid herself, on her great black 
charger, with Dunois riding on her left, and behind 
her, her brothers, the Sieurs de Metz and Poulengy, 
and the Marshal de Boussac and other generals. She 
advanced slowly, for the people pressed about her 
to bless her, to kiss her hand, her mailed shoes, to 
touch her horse even. So great was the crush, that 
one of the torchbearers, forced too close to her 
ecuyer, set fire to her standard. She at once 
touched her horse with the spur, causing him to turn 
so that she was able " to extinguish it, and this with 
as much ease as if she had long followed the wars." 
She had journeyed far that day, and had neither 
eaten nor drunk in many hours, but before tak- 
ing any repose, she asked to be conducted to the 
Cathedral. After giving thanks there, she was 
conducted to the house of Jacques Boucher, treas- 
urer of the city, with whom she was to stay. As he 
was a man of considerable importance, his house if 
not so grand as that of Jacques Csur, the merchant 
prmce of Bourges, was no doubt of the same pattern ; 
all carved without, bright and spacious, and beauti- 


ful within. There was a banquet at which the 
principal people of the city were present; but she, 
in whose honor it was given, would taste nothing, 
save a few pieces of bread dipped in wine. Then 
she went to rest, sharing the bed of Charlotte 
Boucher, a girl of about her own age and the 
daughter of her host. Her brother Pierre, de 
Metz, and Poulengy, also remained as guests of the 
Bouchers. Not until the lights were extinguished 
in the Boucher house, did the throng depart from 
before it ; when they did, it was to a quieter rest and 
sweeter dreams than they had known for long ; for 
they passed into sleep with the pleasant conscious- 
ness that the messenger of God was in the midst of 



" I have this day set thee over the nations, thou shall be an 
iron pillar ; they sha'n strike thee, but they shall not prevail 
against thee, for it is I who am with thee." 

Early the next morning Jeanne sought Dunois 
to propose that they profit by the popular enthusi- 
asm to attack one of the strongest of the English 
towers. From the moment of his meeting with 
Jeanne, Dunois seems to have felt a fraternal regard 
for his strange little fellow-soldier and remained to 
the last her firm friend and ally. Moreover, he was 
shrewd enough to perceive that she would prove 
the unifying force, for lack of which, French valor 
had hitherto proved powerless against the disciplined 
armies of the English. But he knew that with the 
noble exceptions of La Hire, Xaintrailles, d'Alengon 
and himself, all the captains were bitterly opposed 
to " this wench from the fields " as one of them is 
reported to have called her, and that until they 
could be persuaded or intimidated into following 
her leading, it would be useless to attempt what 
she suggested. He therefore told Jeanne that he 
thought it would be better to await the arrival of 
her army, adding that if it did not arrive the next 
day he would go with her ecuyer, d'Aulon, to hasten 
it. Jeanne submitted to his decision, the more 


willingly that it afforded her another interval in 
which to summon the enemy to depart in peace. 

While at Blois she had already sent to the English 
commanders at Orleans a letter summoning them 
to depart from the Kingdom of France. It was 
probably an enlarged form of that which she had 
dictated at Poitiers, and read as follows : 

jHESus Maria. 

King of England, and you, Duke of Bedford who call your- 
self Regent of France, you, William de la Poule (Pole) Comte 
of Sulford (Suffolk) John, Lord de Talebot (Talbot) and you 
Thomas, Lord Escales (Scales) who call yourselves lieutenants 
of the said Duke of Bedford, hearken to the King of Heaven ; 
render to the Maid who is here sent by God, the King of 
Heaven, the keys of all the good cities that you have taken by vio- 
lence in France. She is sent by God to reclaim the royal rights. 
She is ready to make peace if you will do right to France, and 
pay for what you have taken. And you, archers, companions- 
in-war, gentles, and others, who are before the city of Orleans, 
go in peace on the part of God ; if you do not do so, expect 
news of the Maid who will see you shortly to your very great 
damage. King of England, if you do not do this, I am chief in 
this war, and in whatsoever place in France I find your people 
I will make them go away, willing or not willing. I am sent 
here by God to drive you out of France. If you obey, I will 
have mercy. And be not strong in your own opinion, for you do 
nothold the Kingdom of France from God, the King of Heaven, 
son of Holy Mary ; but it is held by King Charles, the true 
heir ; for God the King of Heaven so wills it, and it is revealed 
by the Maid who will enter Paris in good company. If you 
will not believe this news on the part of God and the Maid, in 
whatever place you find yourselves, we \nll go there and make 
such a commotion as has not been seen in France for a thou- 
sand years, if you do not hear reason. And believe that the 
King of Heaven will send more strength to the Maid than you 



can bring against her in all your assaults, to her and her good 
men-at-arms. You. Duke of Bedford, the Maid prays and 
requires you to destroy no more. If you will act according to 
reason, you may yet come in her company where the French 
shall do the greatest deed that has ever been done for Chris- 
tianity. Answer if you will make peace in the city of Orleans. 
If you do not you will remember it shortly by great misfortunes. 
Written the Saturday of Holy Week. 

The passage in this document, relating to the 
great deed to be done by France, is thought by some 
to indicate a purpose on Jeanne's part, if the Eno-. 
hsh had yielded to her summons, to unite the two 
nations in a great crusade for the recovery of the 
Holy Sepulchre. Her letter ^vas received by the 
English with raileries and insults. Her herald, 
Guienne, who had carried it, was retained by them 
as a prisoner while awaiting the advice of the Un- 
iversity of Paris in regard to the propriety of 
Ixirning him as the messenger of a sorceress. At 
the time Jeanne had declared that there was noth. 
ing left to do but to fight, but now in this time of 
forced inaction, she seems to have conceived 3 
hope that the enemy might still be induced to 
depart in obedience to the command of God. She 
sent a second summons to Talbot by her herald-at- 
arms, Ambleville, to depart, and to send back her 
herald, Guienne, to which Dunois added something 
that probably had more effect on the doughty old 
English commander : that the lives of the Eng- 
lish prisoners in Orleans should answer for the 
life of Guienne. The latter was sent back with 
Ambleville, but brought to Jeanne this sinister 
threat, the prediction of her terrible fate : that the 
Enghsh chiefs would burn her if they caught her. 


This brutal response did not discourage Jeanne, 
who made another appeal, the very next day. 
When the English had seized the opposite end of 
the bridge which led from Orleans across the Loire, 
and erected there the great fortification called the 
Tournelles, the French had destroyed the middle 
part of the bridge, and erected the fortification of 
the Belle Croix on the end of the part that was 
still standing. It was to this bastion that Jeanne 
went, and spoke across the gap to Glasdale 
who commanded at the Tournelles, summoning 
him to withdraw with his troops while there was 
yet time ; else, woe and shame would come upon 
them. Perhaps, in her simple trusting heart, there 
was a belief that it was by some such splendid 
miracle of peace she was destined to raise the siege ; 
that at her appeal, the captains and soldiers would 
throw down their arms, refusing to fight longer in an 
unjust cause, and withdraw from the beleaguered 
city. But this was not God's design ; it was by 
war, terrible war, that the divinity of her mission 
was to be shown. Glasdale and his men answered 
her with oaths, and cries of cow-girl, and threats to 
burn her if they caught her. Other and fouler 
names they flung at her, too, names such as rough 
and angry soldiers, in an age when even conversa- 
tion, in all classes, was characterized by a coarseness 
that would not be tolerated to-day, would be apt 
to taunt a woman in Jeanne's position with, but 
which pierced her virginal heart like swords, causing 
hot tears to flow down her cheeks. But when 
Glasdale went on to call the French miscreants, the 


righteous anger, that no insults to herself could 
arouse, was kindled in behalf of the people she 
loved so well. 

" That is a lie," she cried, " and in spite of you, 
soon shall your people depart hence ; but as for you, 
you shall not see it." 

With this solemn warning, which no doubt in- 
tensified the fear of her which was already gnawing 
at the hearts of the English, and causing all their 
fury, Jeanne retired. During the days of inaction 
that yet remained, Jeanne endeavored to convert 
the soldiers of the garrison, and make them enter 
upon the struggle in the same religious spirit as 
her own army. The people still followed her about, 
never wearying of gazing upon her ; and when she 
went home, followed her through the streets, and 
gathered about the entrance of the Boucher house 
in such throngs, that many great people who came 
to see her could scarcely make their way through 
them ; always finding fresh matter for admiration 
in her appearance, her soldierly bearing, and, above 
all, in the marvelous manner in which she managed 
her spirited horse. 

On her part, she always endeavored to com- 
municate to the people her faith in God, and her 
hope of victory. To the numberless questions 
they asked concerning her mission, she simply 
answered, " God has sent me to deliver your city." 
They believed her ; and no longer feared any- 
thing ; they followed her to the churches, and 
watching her weep with joy during the divine 
services, revered her as a saint. 


All France realized that Orleans was to be the 
pivotal struggle in the long contest, and every 
town that could possibly do so sent thither some 
soldiers from its garrison. They were very wel- 
come, but to the inhabitants of Orleans, there must 
have been as much difference between the scanty, 
ill-conditioned, French troops, and the well-set 
up, organized, English forces as there was to the 
people of Philadelphia in our own Revolution- 
ary struggle, between the ragged, war-worn Con- 
tinentals, and Howe's splendid army. Indeed, the 
contrast must have been greater, for our country 
never reached the state of exhaustion that France 
sank to in the fifteenth century. England, on the 
other hand, had never been the battle-ground ol the 
war ; strong and prosperous, and regarding the war 
with France favorably, she was always willing to 
grant new subsidies to carry it on. It is not to be 
wondered at, therefore, that the Orleanists trembled 
for the issue. But when one of the wisest men 
of the city said to Jeanne : " My child, the 
enemy are very strong, and well fortified ; it will 
be hard to drive them out ; " she answered, simply : 
" Nothing is impossible with the power of God." 

But with all the troops that came in, there was no 
sign of the army from Blois. It was well that 
Dunois went back to see the cause of its delay, 
for he found that the chancellor was on the point 
of disbanding it, and sending the men back to 
their several garrisons, on the pretext that by con- 
centrating so large a portion of the troops at 
Orleans, other points would be left almost defence- 


less. Dunois finally succeeded in overcoming his 
objections, and started back with the army, this 
time in the direction Jeanne had wished to pursue 
at first, by the northern bank of the Loire. 

On the morning of the fourth of May, Jeanne 
learned that Dunois was nearing Orleans. She at 
once mounted her horse, and, preceded by priests, 
chanting sacred hymns and canticles, rode out at 
the head of five hundred soldiers, and escorted her 
army into the city. The English forts remained 
silent, and the long-expected provision-train en- 
tered the city without the slightest attempt being 
made to oppose its passage. This caused the 
enthusiasm to mount to such a degree, that even 
the most jealous of the ofBcers agreed that the 
time for action had come. 

As soon as Dunois dismounted, he sought Jeanne 
to tell her that Falstolfe, the famous English captain 
who had defeated the French so utterly in the 
battle of the Herrings, was advancing to Orleans 
with reinforcements. 

"Dunois," answered the Maid, "I command 
thee to let me know as soon as this Falstolfe comes, 
for if he passes without my knowing, I promise 
thee that I will have thy head cut off." 

It is evident from this playful threat that Jeanne 
feared lest Dunois might be persuaded by the coun- 
cil to undertake an attack without her knowledge. 

After a frugal repast at mid-day, Jeanne, fatigued 
by the weight of her armor, and the labors of the 
morning, went to her chamber to rest. Her ecuyer^ 
d'Aulon, wearied by the march of the preceding 
night, also went to take some repose. 


Suddenly Jeanne started up with a loud cry 
that brought Madame Boucher and her daughter 
Charlotte into the room, to hear her exclaim : "In 
the name of God, our men have hot work ! Where 
are those who should arm me ? The blood of our 
men flows ! It stains the earth ! " 

Filled with awe, for they knew that her Voices 
were speaking to her, they summoned her ecuyer, 
and assisted him to arm her. She scarcely gave 
them time to do it, but breaking away, rushed 
down the stairs. Her page was playing before the 
door in the quiet afternoon : " Wicked boy," she 
said to him, " not to tell me that French blood was 
flowing ! " Flinging herself on her horse, and grasp- 
ing her standard, which was handed to her out of 
the window, she dashed down the street at such 
speed, that her horse's hoofs struck sparks from the 
pavement. Her career was checked for a moment 
by a sad spectacle ; a wounded man whom some 
comrades were carrying. Her eyes filled with 
tears: "My God, my God!" she cried, " never do 
I see a Frenchman's blood, that the hair does not 
rise on my head." 

At the Burgundy gate, Jeanne learned, that with 
the usual independence of action, so fatal to the 
French arms, a party of newly-arrived Bretons had 
gone out to attack the bastile of St. Loup which 
stood in an eastern suburb of the city near the 
church of that name. Thither she sped, accordingly, 
followed by this time, by her ecuyer, her page, 
Dunois, and several of her own soldiers. 

And now Jeanne showed the great natural genius 


for war which was so often to astonish Dunois, 
d'Alen^on, and the other great commanders. Calm 
and intrepid, she perceived that the first. thing nec- 
essary to success, was to isolate the fort, and pre- 
vent any assistance reaching it from the others. At 
her command, Dunois and Sainte Severe directed 
an attack on the fort of St. Lawrence, where Tal- 
bot commanded in person. Other commanders led 
detachments of the now rapidly arriving French 
forces against the other redoubts. Assured that 
all the forts were being held in check, Jeanne 
rallied the wavering Bretons, now augmented by a 
body of her own men, and led them against St. 
Loup. It was the strongest fort on the Orleans 
side of the Loire; the point of support for the in- 
vestiture of the entire city, and Talbot had accord- 
ingly manned it with a heavy force, and furnished 
it with great stores of provisions and ammunition. 

Jeanne took up her position on the edge of the 
moat which surrounded the tower, and there, stand- 
ard in hand, stood urging on her soldiers to the as- 
sault. For three hours the struggle lasted ; the Eng- 
lish defending themselves with the utmost obstinacy. 
But the French fought as they had never fought be- 
fore ; and at last, "at the hour of Vespers," St. 
Loup was theirs ; and the people of Orleans saw the 
twilight sky reddened with the flames which con- 
sumed the great tower that noonday had seen 
frowning upon them. Many of the English sought 
to save their lives by assuming the gowns of priests, 
which they found in the neighboring church of St. 
Loup. Jeanne took these under her protection, and 
had them conveyed to the Hotel Boucher. 

! L.ofC. 


Returning to the city, amid the acclamations of 
the people, Jeanne hastened to the Cathedral to re- 
turn thanks for her first victory. But she felt little 
glory in her achievement ; the memory of the many 
whom she had seen pass with curses on their lips^ 
and hatred in their hearts, into eternity, weighed 
«pon her sensitive, saintly soul, agitating her so 
much, that her chaplain sought to calm her by hear- 
ing her confession. 

Centuries after, the artist Princess, Marie of Or- 
leans, repaid, in some measure, the debt of gratitude 
which her house owed to Jeanne d'Arc b)?- devoting 
her genius to what is perhaps the worthiest repre- 
sentation of the heroic Maid. This exquisite 
statue represents her on horseback, on the battle- 
field, recoiling, as her steed bounds over the bodies 
of the dead. A soul breathes through the marble; 
the soul of the woman, horror-stricken at finding 
herself amid scenes so alien to her nature ; the soul 
of the saint, accomplishing her terrible work in 
obedience to the Voice of God, but shrinking in 
every fibre from war, " this reign of the devil, where 
so many men died in mortal sin." 



" It is hard to say which of the two nations (the French and 
the English) is more indebted to Jeanne d'Arc ; the one whicl> 
owes to her its dehverance, or the one which she forced, by a 
salutary defeat, to enter the path of its future destiny." 

The day after the taking of St. Loup, the Feast 
of the Ascension, Jeanne decided to devote to re- 
pose and religious exercises. She refused to don 
her armor, and ordered that " no one make war." 

The captains took advantage of her resolve to 
call a council without her knowledge, at which it 
was decided to attack, the next day, the extremely 
strong forts of the Tournelles, at the end of the 
bridge opposite Orleans, and the Augustins, some 
distance back from the bridge, at the convent of 
that name. A false attack was to be first made on 
the fort of St. Lawrence, in order to divert the at- 
tention of the English from the real point of at- 
tack. After all had been arranged, Jeanne was 
sent for, and the first part of their plan, only, the 
false attack on St. Lawrence, communicated to her. 
Later, however, Dunois revealed all to her. 

The next morning, the sixth of May, at dawn, 
after having heard mass and communicated, along 
with many of her soldiers, Jeanne set out at the 


head of her men, and crossed the Loire to attack 
the fort of St. John the White, which stood a Httle 
distance east of Les Augustins. The English in 
it, seeing them approach, hastily set fire to it, and 
retreated to Les Augustins. The French followed, 
and charged, but were driven back. Seized with 
panic, they made for the boats, carrying Jeanne 
with them. The English, seeing the power of the 
witch, as they called her, thus fail, decided to fol- 
low up their advantage, and sallied out of Les 
Augustins to fall upon the French. But Jeanne 
had by this time succeeded in rallying her forces ; 
her clear young voice rang out like a clarion. At 
its sound, the French were filled with new strength, 
and, abandoning all thoughts of flight, rushed back 
up the river-bank, and engaged their assailants. At 
first the fight seemed equal, but at length the Eng- 
lish began to lose confidence ; they fell back slowly, 
then their ranks broke in a tumultuous and dis- 
orderly retreat to Les Augustins. But the French 
followed and entered with them, massacred the 
garrison, and set fire to the fortress. 

The only fortification now remaining on the 
southern bank of the Loire was the Tournelles, 
covering the entrance to the bridge, and connected 
with a smaller fort called a boulevard, by a draw- 
bridge. By the time Les Augustins was taken, it 
was too late to attack the Tournelles, but the 
French forces encamped before it, in order to do so 
early the next morning. 

Dunois and Jeanne returned to Orleans. The 
plans of the captains do not seem to have succeeded, 


though there had been fighting all day amid the 
bastiles around the city. The unhoped-for success 
of the Maid in capturing Les Augustins, instead 
of teaching them to trust in her, seems only to have 
made them more eager to steal some of the glory 
from her. They held another council without her 
knowledge, and its result was communicated to 
Jeanne while she was eating her frugal evening 
repast. " We are so small a number in comparison 
to the English," said the knight who had been 
chosen as the council's messenger ; " that we think 
it better not to attempt the Tournelles which, it is 
the unanimous opinion of the captains, would 
require a month to take, even with twice as many 
men as we have at our command. As the city is 
now well provisioned, we can manage to subsist 
until the king sends us further succor. It is there- 
fore the decision of the council that there be no 
attack to-morrow." 

When he had finished, Jeanne arose and answered 
with dignity : " You have been at your council, 
and I have been at mine ; and believe me, that 
the council of the Lord will be accomplished, and 
that yours will come to naught. By my martin 
(baton) to-morrow, I will take the Tournelles, 
and return to Orleans by the bridge." 

It is hard to believe that the captains really meant 
what they said, for they knew that Falstolfe was 
nearing Orleans with reinforcements. It was 
probably only a feint on their part to keep Jeanne 
passive, while they gathered the harvest which 
she had sown. 


After the council's representative had departed, no 
doubt slightly disconcerted by the resolute mes- 
sage of the intrepid Maid, Jeanne sent for her 
chaplain and told him to celebrate Mass earlier 
than usual next morning, and to remain near her 
all day. " To-morrow," she concluded, " I shall 
have much to do, more than I have yet done, and 
I shall be wounded in the breast." 

This was a repetition of the prophecy which she 
had made to the king in one of her first interviews 
with him, that she would be wounded at the siege 
of Orleans, but not mortally. 

There was little sleep in Orleans that night. 
All during it, boats were crossing and re-crossing 
the Loire, with the provisions, ammunition, and 
inflammable material which the inhabitants were 
carrying to the army before the Tournelles. By 
daybreak all was ready ; Dunois only waited for 
Jeanne to begin the attack. It was Saturday, the 
seventh of May, a day destined to be ever memorable 
in the annals of Orleans. Just as the Maid was 
mounting her horse, her host Boucher said to her : 
" Stay and dine with us, Jeanne, on this shad which 
has just been caught." 

" Keep it for supper," answered Jeanne, "■ and I 
will bring back a Godden * to eat his share of it." 

She directed her course to the Burgundy Gate, 
only to find de Gaucourt, the governor, who was in 
league with her enemies, blocking the way. He 

*This name was given the English from their salutation 
of good-day, and not, as, is sometimes said, because of their 
favorite oath. 


told her that it had been decided to make no sortie 
that day. 

" You are a wicked man," cried Jeanne, "but 
whether you will or not, my men shall pass." The 
crowd pushed him aside, the gate was opened, 
and Jeanne rode forth to the river. 

As soon as she had reached the other side, the 
assault was begun, and lasted without any per- 
ceptible advantage to either side until mid-day. 
The Tournelles was extremely strong ; Glasdale 
had surrounded it with every possible defense, 
and to the French it began to appear impregnable. 
In order to spur them to greater efforts, Jeanne 
sent for a ladder, and descending into the moat, 
placed it against the rampart, and began to mount, 
Suddenly, when half-way up, she fell back ; an 
arrow had penetrated her armor, between the 
shoulder-piece and breast-plate. When the Eng- 
lish saw the witch, the source of all their mis- 
fortunes, fall, they swarmed out to seize her ; the 
French rushed to defend her, and for a few mo- 
ments, a terrific struggle was waged over her pros- 
trate body. But her time was not yet come ; the 
French succeeded in bearing her from the field. 
Commander-in-chief as she was, she wept at the pain 
of her wound ; after all, she was only a girl of seven- 
teen. When her armor was removed, the arrow 
stood out half afoot behind. There was an instant 
of faintness, then, with prayer, she felt her strength 
renewed, and pulled the shaft out with her own 
hand. A dressing of oil and lard was applied to 
the wound, and she remained quiet. 


But with her departure, discouragement came 
upon the French. It was noised about that she 
was dead ; the English, exulting, seemed to be 
regaining their old ascendency. The dauntless 
spirit of Jeanne was roused by the report brought 
to her that Dunois was about to sound the retreat. 
She sent word to him to have the men withdraw 
and rest a little, and eat and drink ; meantime, 
she withdrew into a vineyard to pray. Then she 
insisted upon assuming her armor again, and 
mounting her horse, rode back at the head of her 
soldiers, to the scene of action. When the Eng- 
lish saw again the silver-clad figure, shining with 
dazzling brightness in the May sunshine, and the 
great white banner, fear and consternation seized 
them, as if they beheld one risen from the dead. 

The attack was renewed with ardor, and directed 
this time against the smaller fortification, or boule- 
vard, which stood west of the Tournelles, and was 
connected with it by a drawbridge which passed 
over an inlet of the river. All through the long 
Spring afternoon the struggle went on ; with oaths 
and defiances and furious imprecations, above 
which the clear voice of the Maid rang out, inspir- 
ing her soldiers, and urging them to greater and 
greater efforts. In vain the great stone bullets, or 
cloth-yard shafts of the English archers were aimed 
at her; she seemed to bear a charmed life, as she 
moved, a resplendent figure, guiding and directing 
her men. The English soldiers were seized with 
terror ; some thought they saw in her St. Aignan, 
the patron saint of Orleans; others believed that 


she was St. Michael, the great archangel whom, 
indeed, she so much resembled ; while more cursed 
her for a witch who had turned the tide of English 
fortune by her wicked spells. Still, they fought 
with the utmost fury, and the issue was still doubt- 
ful when Jeanne said to a gentleman near her: 
" When my standard touches the wall, all shall be 
yours." She added, " Tell me when it touches." 
A few moments later, the soft May breeze stretched 
out the great white banner to its full length, so 
that its pointed ends, with their golden fringe, 
rested against the dark stone wall of the fortifica- 

" Jeanne," said the gentleman, " it touches." 
" Enter then," cried Jeanne in resonant tones : 
" All is yours." 

The French made another furious assault, mount- 
ing the wall as if it had been a stair, and car- 
ried the boulevard. Glasdale and his men retreated 
on to the drawbridge to gain the Tournelles. 
Jeanne, foreseeing the end, and filled with the 
yearning of the saint for souls in peril, called to 
him in a voice that rose high and clear above the 
infernal clamor, " Glacidas, Glacidas, yield thee to 
the King of Heaven ! I have great pity on thy 
soul ! " He answered with a torrent of blasphemies 
and fought on, till only thirty of his men were 
left about him ; then the drawbridge, which had 
been set on fire by incendiary matter placed be- 
neath it, suddenly gave way, and Glasdale and 
his men, in their heavy armor, went down like 
stones to the bottom of the Loire. 


The Tournelles was taken ! As the twilight fell, 
Suffolk and Talbot, from the fort of St. Lawrence, 
on the northern shore, could see the flag of St. 
George hauled down, and the lilies of France run 
up over the summit of the fortress. Meantime, 
the people of Orleans had been hastily repairing the 
bridge, and throngs now streamed across it to view 
the great fortress so unexpectedly given into their 
hands ! 

Jeanne remained at the Tournelles a part of the 
night waiting to see if the English would make any 
effort to regain it, but when no indication of this ap- 
peared, she consented to return to the city. She 
entered by the bridge, as she had declared she would 
enter, with Dunois riding on her left, and followed by 
all the other captains, and the soldiers. " God knows 
with what joy she and they were received," says 
a chronicler of her time. Along a way blazing with 
torches, she passed, while from every church in 
Orleans, joyous peals rang out, mingling with the 
fanfare of the trumpets, the silvery bugle notes, and 
the cheers and benedictions of the surging throngs. 
Happy they who could get near enough to touch 
her, or even her horse. As for the Maid herself, worn 
with pain and weakness, and fatigue, with her heart 
rent by the tumultuous joy of victory, and the sor- 
row of seeing so many souls go, unprepared, to their 
account, she must hardly have been conscious of 
what was passing. Last of all came the two hun- 
dred English prisoners, who were all that was left of 
eight hundred that had engaged the French that 


The procession passed to the cathedral, where the 
Te Deum was chanted. Then Jeanne had her 
wound dressed, and after a frugal repast, went to 
rest. But all night long, the bells rang out their 
joyous peals for victory, over the sleeping city, and 
over the silent river, with the bodies of Glacidas and 
his men in its depths. The sound must have vexed 
the ears of the English, for there was little sleep for 
them that night; silently and swiftly they evacua- 
ted the fortifications that still remained to them, 
and at dawn, the sentinels on the city walls beheld 
them in the fields, drawn up in order of battle, under 
the command of Talbot. 

When the Maid was told of this, she donned a 
suit of light chain armor, suitable to her wounded 
state, and hastened forth, followed by Dunois and 
the other captains. Men-in-arms, archers, and 
Scotch auxiliaries, rushed after, and were quickly 
marshaled into battle order, outside of the Renart 

" What shall we do now ? " the leader asked 

" Hear Mass," ansv/ered the Maid. It M'^as Sun- 
day. An altar was erected, and in sight of both 
armies, two Masses were celebrated. At the end of 
the second, Jeanne, without turning her eyes from 
the altar, asked : " Which way are the heads of the 
English turned?" "Away from us; towards 
Meung," was the answer. 

"In the name of God, let them depart. It does 
not please God that we fight to-day," she replied. 

So the French re-entered Orleans, while the Eng- 


lish, after remaining in line for more than an hour, 
set fire to their fortifications, and then marched to- 
wards Meung, carrying their prisoners with them, 
and leaving behind only a portion of their artillery, 
and their provisions. 

The delivered city gave itself up to rejoicing. 
Gratitude for the divine assistance was shown by 
a procession after high Mass ; in which Dunois, the 
other captains, the ofificers of the Duke, and the 
burghers, along with Jeanne, heading the women of 
the city, took part. After proceeding through the 
principal streets of the city, the procession passed 
across the bridge, and under the roofs of the half 
destroyed Tournelles. After prayers had been of- 
fered in these ruins by the bishop, the procession 
returned, and entered the city by the Dunois 

And so Orleans was saved ; an undertaking so 
important to France, so tremendous in its results, 
that the name of the Warrior Maid, who accomp- 
lished it, has been indissolubly linked with it, and 
she lives in the pages of history, and in the memory' 
of the French people, as the Maid of Orleans. 



" Ung de nous en vault mieux que cent, 
Soubz estendard de la Pucelle." 

The effect of the deliverance of Orleans was pro- 
digious. From one end of Europe to the other, the 
news of the wonderful victory sped, and the nations, 
who had been watching the long struggle between 
the two peoples, asked by what power these mar- 
vels had been accomplished. The English ascribed 
it, in the words of Bedford's official report to the 
home government, " to a person called la Pucelle, 
filled with the evil spirit, who uses false enchant- 
ments and sorcery, by which she not only greatly di- 
minishes the number of your men here, but abates 
wondrously the courage of the rest, and emboldens 
your adverse party, and your enemies, to assemble in 
great numbers." 

On the tenth of May, Jeanne left Orleans. The 
grateful city, which was preparing fetes in her honor, 
was disconsolate at her departure, but she reminded 
the people that her greatest work was yet to be 
done. She set out for Chinon, but when Charles 
was apprised of her coming, he went as far as 
Tours to meet her. " When they came in sight 
of each other, Jeanne rode forward to meet the 
king," says the chronicle, " with her banner in her 


hand, and her uncovered head bent to the neck 
of her charger, " Charles uncovered, took her by 
the hand, and " as it seemed to many, would fain have 
kissed her, for the joy that he felt. " In his grati- 
tude, he ennobled her family, and obliged Jeanne to 
bear henceforth, on the reverse side of her stand- 
ard, under the arms of France, those of her family, 
a crown supported by a sword, between two fleur- 

But, the first hour of joy past, Jeanne found that 
the jealousies and cowardice of the king's council 
were as strong as ever. In vain she urged them to 
march against the enemies who were flying, so to 
speak, from themselves, and to go to Rheims ; they 
answered that there were neither troops nor money 
for so great a journey. One day at Loches, when 
tlie council was met in Charles' privy chamber, 
Jeanne, in her impatience, went thither, and tapped 
softly at the door. Charles bade her enter. She 
did so, and went and knelt^down at his feet, saying, 
"Gentle dauphin, hold not so many, and such long 
councils, but rather come to Rheims, and assume 
your crown ; I am much pricked to take you 

" Jeanne," said the bishop of Castres, the king's 
confessor, " can not you tell the king what pricketh 
you ? Is it your Voices that urge you to speak 
thus? " " Yes," answered Jeanne, " it is my Voices 
who urge me without ceasing. Often I am sad, 
because you will not listen to me, when I speak on 
the part of God, and I complain to Him, and I pray. 
And after I have prayed, I hear a Voice which says 


to me, * Daughter of God, go, go, I will aid thee.' 
And when I hear this Voice, I feel a deep joy, and 
would I might hear it forever." 

As the Maid spoke thus, the remembrance of that 
divine joy caused her face to shine with such a 
glory, that the memory of it still dwelt with those 
present, when, in their old age, they came to testify 
at her Rehabilitation. 

But Jeanne was not alone in urging the king. 
The deliverance of Orleans had given an impulse to 
the cause of French nationality which carried it 
far. From all parts of France, from Auvergne, from 
Berry, from Touraine, from Anjou, from Brittany, 
a steady stream of cavaliers, gentlemen, burghers, 
and peasantry, flowed towards the Loire. Nor was 
it any sordid spirit, or hope of gain, that brought 
them thither ; all they asked was the privilege of 
fighting under the holy banner of the Maid, in the 
quarrel that the Lord had made his own. No sacri- 
fice was considered too great in order to become 
one of her soldiers ; men sold their goods, submitted 
to all sorts of privations, and joyfully faced any 

The widow of Bertrand du Guesclin, the great 
Breton warrior, who in the time of Charles the 
Wise, Charles Seventh's grandfather, had wrested 
France from the grasp of England, sent her 
two grandsons to court at this time. She wished 
them to remain near the king ; but the blood of 
their great grandsire was hot in their veins, and 
they longed to go with Jeanne. " It is God's will," 
the elder said to Jeanne who tried to restrain him 

114 "r^E WARRIOR. 

by telling him he should accompany the king to 
Rheims ; " that I go and that I do, now ; the more, 
that as my brother and the Duke d'Alengon say : 
'Contemptible he who stays at home.' " 

The elan swept along in its current the king and 
council, and the campaign of the Loire was decided 
upon, which was to wrest all the smaller towu^i 
held by the English from them, and leave the way 
open for the king's march to Rheims. 

During the preparations, Jeanne went to pass four 
days at St. Florent, another of the beautiful castles 
of Touraine, and the home of the young Duke 
d'Alengon. This was probably in order that Jeanne 
might use her influence with his young wife, to 
gain her consent to his going to the war. He had 
been a prisoner, and the enormous ransom he was 
obliged to pay for his liberty had almost ruined 
him, so that the duchess would not hear of his go- 
ing to the war again. If he were taken prisoner 
again, it would be out of the question to raise 
another ransom, and he might languish like her 
father, a prisoner in England, for the greater part of 
his life. But Jeanne's influence was irresistible; no 
woman, especially, ever knew her that did not love 
her. She promised the duchess that her husband 
should return to her unharmed, and so gained her 
consent to his going. Jeanne then departed, after 
having arranged to meet the " handsome duke," as 
she called him, at Loches, where he was to assume 
command of the army under the direction of Jeanne. 

The Maid returned to the king, and begged him 
to hasten the preparations. " I shall not last more 


than a year," she said to him, " better make use of 
me during that time." 

On the sixth of June, she was at Selles. Guy de 
Laval, who has been already spoken of, in a letter 
to his grandmother and mother, eager, in their dis- 
tant Breton chateau, to hear of the wonderful Maid 
with whose fame all France was ringing, gives the 
following picture of her. " The king had sent for 
her to come and meet him at Selles-au-Bery. 
She gave right good cheer (a kind reception) to my 
brother and myself, and after we had dismounted, I 
went to see her in her quarters. She ordered wine, 
and told me she would soon have me drinking some 
at Paris. It seems a thing divine to look on, and 
listen to her. I saw her mount on horseback, 
armed all in white armor, save her head, and with a 
little axe in her hand, on a great black charger, 
which at the door of her quarters was very restive 
and would not let her mount. She said, ' Lead him 
to the cross,' which was in front of the neighbor- 
ing church, on the road. There she mounted him 
without his moving, and as if he were tied up. 
Turning towards the door of the church, which was 
very nigh at hand, she said in a clear, womanly 
voice, ' You priests and churchmen, make proces- 
sions and prayers to God ! ' Then she said to her 
soldiers, ' Forward.' Her brother rode beside her, 
and her folded standard was carried before her by 
a page. She told me, dear grandmother, that she 
had sent you, three days before my arrival, a little 
golden ring, but that it was a very small matter, 
and that she would have liked to sent you some- 
thing better, having regard to your estimation." 

it 1 6 THE WARRIOR. 

On the ninth of June, the Maid entered Orleans 
which was to be the point of departure for the 
army, amid the same scenes of enthusiasm that had 
enlivened her first coming. But the grateful city 
did not confine its gratitude to words ; it furnished 
the army with artillery and gunners, and munitions 
of war, along with culverins and ladders, and many 
other things used in mediaeval warfare, and deputed 
two burghers to accompany its beloved Jeanne 

The army consisted of the former garrison of 
Orleans, with the addition of six hundred lances, and 
a number of farmers and peasants, in their rustic 
dress, armed with axes, leaden mallets, and what- 
ever other weapons they could procure ; a motley 
'Company, no doubt, to English eyes, but one filled 
with an irresistible spirit, as they were soon to find. 
Jeanne led her little force to Jargeau, where Suf- 
folk was in command. She reached there on the 
twelfth of June. Although it was Sunday, she de- 
termined to attack it, and having arranged the 
artillery, an art in which, according to d'Alengon, 
she excelled, she had the trumpets sounded for the 
assault. The Duke thought it was too soon. "Ah," 
said Jeanne, " be not doubtful ; it is the hour pleas- 
ing to God. Work ye, and God will aid." 

The assault began, and Jeanne, while occupied as 
usual, in animating her men, did not forget to 
watch over the duke, as she had promised. He was 
watching the assault from an exposed spot at which 
Jeanne saw a piece pointed. "Get you hence," 
she said to him, " yonder is a piece which will slay 


you ! " The duke moved away, and a moment 
alter, the Sieur de Lorde was killed by a discharge 
from the same gun. 

Jeanne pressed forward to the edge of the moat, 
into which her troops descended and placed the 
ladders against the walls. But the English fought 
valiantly, huj-ling great stones upon the assail- 
ants, while a gigantic Englishman ran along the 
walls, overturning the ladders. D'Alengon made 
a sign to Master Jehan, a famous Lorraine gun- 
ner who had distinguished himself at the taking 
of Les Augustins, and in a few moments the Eng- 
lishman fell, struck in the chest by the discharge 
from a culverin. 

A breach was at length made in the walls, and in 
the rush to enter, the standard of the Maid was 
overturned, and she herself fell into the moat. A 
shout of triumph broke from the English, a cry of 
despair from the French, but she had scarcely 
touched the earth when she bounded up and re- 
mounted to the breach, crying : " Enter boldly, 
friends, sus ! sus ! have good courage ! your Lord 
has condemned the English ; at this hour, they are 
ours ! 

The French finally reached the summit of the 
ramparts, and threw themselves with fury on the 
English whom they pursued into the city and 
massacred with rage. 

Suffolk abandoned the fortification, and retired, 
fighting as he went, towards a fort at the end 
of the bridge which led across the Loire. But the 
French elan soon carried this, and he was forced to 


surrender with all his troops. Jargeau was theirs ! 
One story is that Suffolk declared: "I will yield 
my sword only to Jeanne la Pucelle, the most val- 
iant woman in the world, who subjugates and puts 
us all to confusion." Another account represents 
him as captured by a soldier, to whom he would 
not yield his sword till he had knighted him. 

That night, Jeanne re-entered Orleans with the 
army, and the English prisoners. The next day 
she marched at the head of her troops to Beaugency, 
six leagues from Orleans. She was preparing to 
lay siege to the city, when an unexpected reinforce- 
ment arrived in the person of the Count de Riche- 
mont, at the head of twelve hundred men. De 
Richemont was a great noble, brother of the Duke 
of Brittany, and Constable of France. According 
to Guizot, he was a pure and stainless patriot, 
and the one to whom, after Jeanne d'Arc, the honor 
of establishing French nationality is due. But at 
the time of which we speak, he was in disgrace, and 
exiled from court. With the true independence of 
the French feudal lord, however, he had decided 
not to let these stirring times, when every gale was 
victory, go by without his banner being seen in the 
field, and had, accordingly, raised a troop and ad- 
vanced towards the Loire. Charles sent him word 
to come no further; Richemont replied that he 
would take part in the struggle, in the interests of 
the kingdom and the king, and kept on his way. 
He was the particular foe of sorcery, and was re- 
ported to have burned more witches than any other 
man in France. He seems to have had serious 


doubts as to the source of Jeanne's power, as his 
greeting shows : " Jeanne," he said, " they tell me 
that you are against me. I know not if you are 
from God or not. If you are from God I do not 
fear you ; if you are from the devil, I fear you still 
less." " Brave Constable," answered Jeanne, " you 
have not come here by any will of mine, but since 
you are here, you are welcome." D'Alengon, how- 
ever, was troubled. The king's orders were precise 
in regard to Richemont. What should he do ? He 
took counsel of Jeanne, who, hearing that Talbot 
was approaching, advised that they think of nothing 
but helping one another. So Richemont remained. 
The following night, Beaugency capitulated, and on 
the morning of the eighteenth of June, the French 
took possession of the town. 

A little later, it was learned that six thousand 
men under the command of Talbot, Scales and Fal- 
stolfe were moving to the relief of Beaugency. 

At the name of these formidable English generals, 
who had inflicted so many defeats on the French, 
there was considerable uneasiness among the 
French commanders. The Maid had done well in 
assaults, but she was inexperienced in open battle ; 
their army was small, and a good part of it, raw 
recruits. When d'Alengon tried to sound Jeanne 
as to the issue of the approaching contest, she an- 
swered gaily : " Have you good spurs ? " " What ? " 
cried the chief ; " shall we have to run away ? " 

" No," answered Jeanne, " but the English shall 
be vanquished, and you will need good spurs to 
pursue them. This triumph will cost very little 
French blood." 


As soon as the English commanders learned that 
Beaugency had capitulated, they retreated. The 
Maid ordered the French to pursue, but the French 
generals, remembering Agincourt, Verneuil, and 
Rouvray, hesitated. " In the name of God," cried 
Jeanne, "though the English were in the clouds, 
we should have them ; God sends us against them 
to punish them. My Voices tell me they shall be 
in our power, and that the noble king shall have 
to-day the greatest victory he has ever had." 

The constable supported Jeanne's view, so the 
attack was resolved on. In order to not give the 
English time to form in line of defense, and not to 
precipitate the march of the French so as to hurry 
them on to the field of battle in disorder, fifteen hun- 
dred of the best mounted men were detached under 
La Hire, to locate the enemy. A number of these 
went ahead as scouts, galloping over the plains of 
Beauce, then almost entirely covered with thickets of 
brushwood. A fruitless search of many hours had 
just made them conclude that the English had taken 
some other route, when a startled stag ran towards 
the northeast, and the sight of their favorite meat, 
evoked a shout from the hungry English that be- 
trayed their position. The scouts sped back to La 
Hire, who at once moved with his little force in the 
direction of the foe. There was a brief council 
among the English commanders. Falstolfe thought 
it best to avoid a battle, and fall back on some 
strongly fortified place until the soldiers should have 
recovered from their terror, and aid from England 
should arrive. But the other captains held with 


Talbot, that without taking the offensive, they 
should accept battle. It was therefore decided to 
fall back, and take up a position with one of their 
wings resting in the village of Patay, and the other 
in a fortified monastery. But before they could 
reach this point, La Hire charged them. Falstolfe 
withdrew with his column, leaving Talbot to carry 
on the struggle with the disorganized troops that 
remained to him. When the main army arrived, the 
English were put to utter rout, and Talbot was 
taken prisoner. 

The pursuit was hot, and the captors merciless. 
Ten thousand English soldiers covered the plain 
with their bodies. Jeanne was moved to tears at 
the sight ; springing from her horse, she lifted the 
head of a soldier who had fallen, dying, from a ter- 
rible blow on the head ; she consoled him, oBtained 
the ministrations of a priest for him ; and aided him 
in his death agony. 

The army slept at Patay, on the spot conse- 
crated by victory, and on the following morning, 
the nineteenth of June, returned to Orleans. 

In eight days, Jeanne had taken Jargeau, Meung, 
Beaugency, and Janville, by the terror of her arms ; 
had taken prisoner Talbot, Scales, and Suffolk, 
and put to flight the redoubtable Falstolfe ; had 
re-conquered the Loire, and opened the road to the 
capital ; and had vanquished the English in open 
battle after having defeated them in assaults. 

The Constable, the marshals, and the princes, all 
united in declaring that Jeanne was the soul of 
their councils, and their guide in battle ; that she 


had taken the initiative in all their great enter- 
prises, that her inspiration had never failed, and 
that her arms had always brought victory. Truly, 
as an eloquent man said of her : " God had in- 
structed her hands to fight, and her fingers to hold 
the sword." 



" The incredible dream, the impossible dream, of the peasant 
maid is fulfilled : the English power is broken, the Heir of France 
is crowned." 

The city of Orleans was gaily decorated with 
crimson and green, the Duke of Orleans' colors, to 
receive the Maid, and there were all sorts of fetes 
prepared in her honor. But as she had said, there 
was little time for work in her brief life, much less 
for feasting and rejoicing, and after four days, the 
silver trumpets sounded for departure, and she 
mounted and rode southward, to Gien, where the 
king had promised to meet her to go to Rheims 
to be crowned. At parting, she accepted from the 
grateful Orleanists, a magnificent robe of crimson 
Brussels velvet, and a doublet of green velvet, with 
garnitures of black satin and cendal (silken stuff). 

Her arrival at Gien was, no doubt, the cause of 
much embarrassment to both king and court. In 
reading Jeanne's story, one is always wishing that 
the king were worthier of her ; a Louis Ninth, or a 
Charlemagne ; if it were not for the kingship and 
the nation behind the individual, one would think 
her wasted on Charles who always seems so pitiful a 
figure beside her. In this case, both he and his 
council probably thought when they had dismissed 


her to the campaign of the Loire, that they had rid 
themselves of her importunities for some time. But 
she had done her work with breathless rapidity, and 
was back again, with fresh laurels on her brow, and 
a popular enthusiasm supporting her, that made it 
dangerous to ignore her. Indeed, says a con- 
temporary chronicler : " by reason of Jeanne the 
Maid, so many folk came from all over unto the 
king to serve him at their own expense, that La 
Tremouille and others of the council were much 
wroth thereat, through anxiety for their own per- 
sons." It was no doubt as much fear of ex- 
asperating this immense throng by opposing the 
purposes of their idol, as any other reason, that 
caused king and council to forsake Touraine, with 
its summer pleasures, for a perilous journey of 
eighty leagues through the enemy's country. 

On the twenty-ninth of June, the Feast of St. 
Peter, the royal standard was unfurled, and the 
army, with the king at its head, began to move. 
Charles was attended by many princes of the blood, 
among whom were the Duke d'Albret, the Counts 
of Clermont, de Vendome, de Laval, and de 
Boulogne, and Dunois ; and followed by twelve 
thousand soldiers. 

Jeanne was not the head of the army ; she was its 
soul. She would not allow them to fix her any 
rank, or assign her any post ; she rode now with 
the king, now with the rear-guard, as her purpose 
prompted her. " They advanced into the heart of 
the enemy's country with incredible security ; and 
all the enemy's fortresses on one side of the way, 


and the other put themselves under the Maid's 
obedience," says the Chronicler. Some of the 
nobles who witnessed her extraordinary success said 
to her: "Jeanne, such things as you have done, 
we have never read in any book." 

Jeanne answered : " That is because the Lord 
has a book, such as no clerk, however learned, how- 
ever perfect he may be, has ever read." 

The army at length came to Auxerre, occupied 
by the troops of Philip the Good, of Burgundy. 
The city was summoned to open its gates to its 
lawful king, but paid no heed. Jeanne and Dunois 
were preparing to carry it by assault, when the 
inhabitants demanded a truce, engaging to supply 
the army with provisions, and promising such sub- 
mission as Troyes, Chalons, and Rheims, should 
show. Jeanne was opposed to their demands being 
granted, but a secret bribe of ten thousand crowns 
to La Tremouille, caused him to influence the king 
to consent to them. 

With an army continually augmented by en- 
thusiastic recruits, Charles passed on, receiving sub- 
mission from every place as he went. At length 
he entered the flat and chalky plains of Champagne, 
where, as Michelet says, "dull rivers drag their 
chalky streams between banks poorly shaded by 
young or stunted poplars." ^ On the fifth of July, at 
nine o'clock in the morning, he arrived before the 
city of Troyes, where the infamous treaty, by which 
Isabella of Bavaria had given the Kingdom of 
France to Henry Fifth, had been signed. The 
walls were lined with the inhabitants waiting to see 


the king pass, but they soon found that he had no 
intention of passing. He encamped before the city, 
and summoned it to surrender. The burghers 
would have done so, for the city was the centre of 
a busy trade in thread, cotton caps, and leather, 
which caused its fairs to be attended by dealers 
from all parts of Europe ; and they had no mind 
to have this interfered with by a long siege. But 
the garrison of English and Burgundians refused to 
hear any talk of surrender. 

There was considerable perplexity in the royal 
camp when day after day went by, and Troyes still 
proved obdurate ; provisions failed, and the soldiers 
were obliged to live on unripe fruit. A council was 
held, at which the Archbishop of Rheims proposed 
to return to the Loire, a course which found many 
advocates. Jeanne had not been summoned to the 
council, but Robert de Macon, sieur de Treves in 
Anjou, proposed, when it came his turn to speak, 
that she be sent for. This perilous journey, he 
said, had been made solely on the representation of 
the inspired virgin, that it was the will of God, and 
that they would find little resistance. It was there- 
fore but right that she be called on to explain the 
seeming contradiction. 

" Noble dauphin," said the Maid, when she had 
presented herself before the assembly ; " order your 
soldiers to assault the city. To what end these 
eternal councils? In the name of God, before three 
days are gone by, I will enter, by love, or by force, 
into the city of Troyes." 
■ The chancellor answered: "Jeanne, if we were 


certain of having it in six days, we would gladly 
wait ; but speak you truly ? " 

Jeanne repeated that there was no doubt, and it 
was therefore decided to wait. On the afternoon 
of the ninth of July, they prepared for the assault. 
The army, discouraged by inaction, rose at the 
Maid's voice, and worked with such ardor, that by 
the morning all was ready. The burghers, seeing 
the terrible preparations, were so filled with terror 
that they prevailed over the garrison, and just as 
the trumpets were about to sound the assault, the 
gate opened, and the bishop, attended by the prin- 
cipal burghers, issued forth, bearing to the king 
the submission of the inhabitants. 

On the following Sunday, Charles made his sol- 
emn entry into Troyes. The attention of the Maid, 
as she entered with him, was attracted by the sound 
of cries from some French prisoners whom the de- 
parting garrison were dragging with them. Jeanne 
blocked the way, declaring this must not be. 
When she was told that it was so agreed in the 
articles of capitulation, she obliged the king to 
ransom them. 

The submission of Troyes decided that of Cha- 
lons. The bishop and principal burghers came as 
far as Estre to meet the king, and make submission 
to him. At Chalons, a number of the village folk 
who had journeyed thither from Domremy, were 
waiting to see the Maid as she passed, riding by the 
side of princes. They may have fancied that this 
would be all they would see of her in her exalted 
station, but she seems to have sent for them, and 


received them cordially. To one of them, her god- 
father, she gave a red cap which she had worn ; to 
another, who expressed his fear of the danger that 
she ran in battle, she said, " Fear but one thing — 

Early the following morning, the king and army 
began their march to the city of Saint Remy, where 
they arrived the same day. The inhabitants had 
declared for Charles, and compelled the garrison 
to depart, so that the king found the gates of the 
ancient city open to him. The Archbishop of 
Rheims, Regnault de Chartres, who had never 
occupied his see, was like the king, indebted to the 
Maid for gaining possession of his own. He had rid- 
den on ahead, and entered the city in the morning, 
in order to receive his sovereign in his archiepisco- 
pal city. 

Late in the afternoon, the king arrived before 
the gates. The Archbishop, attended by the 
clergy and students, and followed by all the princi- 
pal inhabitants, of the city, came forth to meet him ; 
crying Noel ! Noel ! But neither the king, nor the 
splendidly attired princes and courtiers who 
attended him, could draw the people's gaze from 
the silver-clad Maid, with her great white standard, 
riding beside the king. An ancient tapestry, pre- 
served in the Cathedral of Rhenns up to the time 
of the Revolution, showed this memorable tri- 
umphal entry. And to the eyes of two at least 
among the throng, it must have seemed like a 
dream to behold her there — her father and her 
uncle Durand — whom she saw afterwards at the 


inn in the Place, which still preserves the memory 
of those peasant guests. 

The king alighted with the Archbishop, at the great 
old palace of the Archevech^, close to the Cathedral, 
Avhere he and his retinue were to lodge. In its 
magnificent hall, a consultation was held, and it 
was decided to have the coronation on the follow- 
ing day. The remainder of the day, and all the 
night, were devoted to preparing for the great event. 
There was much to be done, and a very short 
time to do it in ; but the happy turn in the tide 
of their country's fortune, filled the people with 
strength and good-will ; and when the July sun 
rose, it looked down upon a gaily decorated city, 
through which the inhabitants, in their best attire, 
were already beginning to surge, for there was much 
to do, and to see. Now it was some great noble, 
like the Duke of Lorraine, the Duke of Bar, or 
Robert Sarrebruck, lord of Comercy, alighting with 
his retinue at the Archeveche ; now it was some 
neighboring seigneur with his family, come to seek 
lodgings for the day. 

We know how a presidential inauguration, with 
all its republican simplicity, will draw people from 
an immense distance to Washington, so we can 
imagine with what crowds the pageant of a corona- 
tion must have usually filled the little mediaeval 
city. In this case, the times were very perilous, 
and many good burghers must have felt it unsafe to 
venture beyond the walls of their good towns, still, 
no doubt, curiosity, quickened by the presence of 
the wonderful Maid, must have mastered fear with 


a large number, and caused a stream of people of 
all conditions to pour into the city. They came 
early, in order to behold one of the most interest- 
ing sights connected with the coronation, the fetch- 
ing of the Sainte Ampoule, the holy vial in which 
the oil of consecration had been sent to Saint 
Remy from heaven for the anointing of Clovis 
centuries before. Watching before the Archevech6, 
they saw the four splendidly attired peers of France, 
who had been deputed by the King to go and bring 
the vial from the church of St. Remy, where it was 
strictly guarded by the monks, descend, and mount 
their horses. Followed by the revering throng, they 
rode to the old Abbey of Saint Remy, and there, 
kneeling in a row, with joined hands, pledged them- 
selves by solemn oath never to lose sight of the vial, 
by day nor night, till they had restored it to its ap- 
pointed guardians. Then the Abbot, in full pontif- 
icals, under a magnificent canopy, surrounded, and 
followed by his monks, appeared, bearing the sacred 
vessel. Escorted by the " hostages," as the four 
peers were called, he passed down the church, and 
through the streets, as far as the church of Saint 
Denis, where he was met by a splendid procession, 
headed by the Archbishop, to whom he gave the vial. 
Preceded by the " hostages " the latter bore it to the 
Cathedral, already filled with a waiting multitude. 

In the meantime, Jeanne had been busy with 
many things. She had, no doubt, to act as a spur 
to the procrastinating king and court, ever ready 
to succumb before any obstacle ; and she may have 
been present at the interview between the Duke of 


Lorraine and Charles, in order to promote the 
cause of France by their union. She must, too, of 
course, have seen her father, but of this interview, 
the last which he was ever to have with his wonder- 
ful child, on earth, history says nothing. As it 
was Durand that went to the king to be questioned 
in regard to the early life of Jeanne, it would seem 
that Jacques d'Arc was still bewildered and uncer- 
tain, in regard to the wonderful things that had 
come to pass. A man of his type does not change 
his mental attitude easily ; and though, after the 
highest in the Church had commended her course, 
he, no doubt, brought himself to forgive Jeanne's 
disobedience, and to believe again in her goodness, 
he probably could not rejoice even in her election 
by God to a work that brought her so completely 
into the rude glare of publicity, so repugnant to his 
peasant heart. 

During this interval, she was also busy in dictat- 
ing a letter to the Duke of Burgundy, full of 
dignity and patriotism, commanding him to cease 
to make war on France, and to withdraw all his 
soldiers from that country. This duty over, she 
donned her armor, and prepared to accompany the 
king to the coronation. 

At the appointed hour, there was a blast from 
hundreds of silver trumpets, and then, to the sound 
of a mighty anthem, the royal procession passed 
beneath the deeply sculptured portal of that famous 
cathedral which has been called by a noted writer, 
** one of the noblest works of man's hands," with 
the Warrior Maid walking by the King's side, bear- 


ing the great standard which she had not to lower. 
In the rich light falling from the lofty stained win- 
dows, it moved, a mass of gorgeous color, towards 
the high altar, with the great sword of state borne 
by the Sire d'Albret, directly after the king. Ac- 
cording to the antique ritual, six lay peers, and six 
ecclesiastical peers should have been present, but as 
they were not, six of the king's courtiers repre- 
sented the lay peers, and bishops replaced those of 
the ecclesiastical peers who were absent. 

The long ceremony proceeded, amid clouds of 
incense, and the blaze of myriads of lights, while 
the deep tones" of the organ mingled now with the 
voices of the priests, and now with the flood of sacred 
harmony that filled the great gothic pile, until at 
length the solemn moment came, when with oil from 
the sacred vial, the arclibishop anointed the king. 
Then, while the sound of the great Te Deum, and 
the fanfare of silver trumpets, within, and the thun- 
der of artillery without, proclaimed that Charles had 
been touched with the holy chrism that set him 
apart, and above all other men, the anointed king 
of France, the crown was placed on his head, and 
he was lifted to his seat, according to the ancient 
rite, by the six ecclesiastical peers. 

All through the long hours Jeanne had stood 
near the King, bearing her standard aloft. " It had 
had the trouble," she said when she was asked at her 
trial why her standard only was accorded this 
privilege, " it was but right that it should have the 
honor." What had her thoughts been as she stood 
amid that gorgeous, scene, at the supreme moment 


of her divine mission ? Were there visible to her 
privileged eyes, those radiant spirits she had long 
communed with, testifying, by their presence, God's 
approval of her vi^ork ? Did the scenes of her child- 
hood rise again before her ; the cottage at Dom- 
remy, the church, the little garden, and the dusky 
oakvvood, where so often the angelic voices had 
sounded, urging to her where she stood? Did 
the future unfold itself before her with its dark 
visions of treachery and death, and apparent failure, 
and beyond them, the sight of France descending 
through the ages, a great and glorious nation, honor- 
ing her as its savior ? 

When the coronation was over, she advanced, 
weeping with joy, and throwing herself at the king's 
feet, said : " Noble King, now is executed the 
pleasure of God, that the siege be raised, and that 
you come to the city of Rheims to be crowned, show- 
ing that you are the true King, and him to whom 
the kingdom of France belongs." 

A little later, the King, who never seems to have 
been lacking in rewarding Jeanne with material gifts, 
for her services, urged her to name her own recom- 
pense for having brought to pass the coronation. 
She did so — that for the future, the villages of Dom- 
rej7ty and Greux be exempt from all taxes. O royal 
soul ! that knows not earthly ambition ; that seeks 
not to turn the King's favor to the aggrandizement 
of her kindred, but uses it to lighten life's burdens 
for the poor ; that wills her name to be remembered, 
not in the palaces of the great, but in the peasant's 
cottage, to descend from generation to generation 


with benedictions ! Her prayer was granted, and 
up to the time of the French Revolution, in the tax- 
books, the pages that bore the names of Domremy 
and Greux, were always left blank save for this 
inscription : 

RiEN — La Pucelle. 



Away, and glister like the god of war. 
When he intendeth to become the field, 
Show boldness and aspiring confidence. 

After the coronation, Charles Seventh moved 
through Champagne and Picardy. His march be- 
came a mere royal progress ; as he neared each 
town, its gates opened, and joyous processions, 
headed by cross and banner, issued forth to greet 
him. Cries of " Noel ! Noel ! " rent the air, and 
mingled with the Te Deums that were chanted in 
thanksgiving to God for having given the country 
to its legitimate king. 

Jeanne, who was riding between the King and the 
chancellor on one of these occasions, was so touched 
by the loyalty and enthusiasm of the people, that 
she cried out: "O good and devoted people! I 
have never seen such rejoicings at the arrival of the 
noble prince! If I must die, I would that I might 
be buried among them ! " 

"Jeanne," asked the chancellor, "where do you 
believe that you will die ? " 

It may have been that the wily chancellor, who 
was no friend of Jeanne, sought by this question to 
ensnare her into some prophecy regarding her 


death, but if so, his attempt was utterly defeated 
by the truthfulness and simplicity of Jeanne. 

" I know not," she answered, "■ where it shall 
please God, for I am no more assured of the time 
and the place than yourself. I would that it might 
please God, my Creator, that I might give up arms, 
and return to serve my mother and my father, and 
keep the sheep with my sister and my brothers. 
They would be so glad to see me ! . . . . I have 
done, at least, what Our Lord commanded me to 
do." After saying these words, she raised her eyes 
to Heaven, and gave thanks to God. " All those 
who saw her at this moment," says the ancient 
Chronicle, " believed more than ever that she had 
come on the part of God," 

The popular account of Jeanne d'Arc represents 
her as falling on her knees before the King, after the 
Coronation was finished, and declaring that her 
mission was fulfilled, and imploring to be allowed to 
return to her home. Part of the story — that relat- 
ing to the fulfillment of her mission — is absolutely 
false ; for in all the great mass of testimony re- 
corded at her trial, and at her Rehabilitation, there 
is not a word in regard to any declaration on her 
part, of any time or event that was to terminate her 
mission. On the contrary, her frequent urgings to 
make use of her while she lasted, would seem to 
imply that she had understood from her Voices that 
so long as she was living and free, she was to serve 
France. The latter part of the story is a garbled ac- 
count, in which the sentiments of joy and gratitude, 
which she expressed at the coronation, at having ac- 


complished what she had foretold with so much 
persistence, and brought about in spite of the hesi- 
tation and reluctance of others, are mingled with the 
natural longings for home which, as we have seen, 
she expressed some days later. 

The Maid may be said to have now attained the 
zenith of her earthly glory and success. Ail 
Christendom was ringing with her name ; to her own 
people she was France incarnate ; she had been en- 
nobled by the King, and her name had been inserted 
in the liturgies of the Church ; an honor hitherto 
reserved to royal personages. But the coronation 
seemed to be the turning-point in her career. At 
a cursory glance, the events which follow it seem 
to contradict those which went before ; the Voices 
no longer seem to guide; the prophecies made are 
apparently not fulfilled. It is for this reason that 
her enemies declare Jeanne to be an impostor ; 
while others, like Michelet, who revere her in- 
nocence and her patriotism, pityingly represent her 
as one " who mistook the Voice of her heart for 
the Voice of God." Others again, in whom the 
romantic and picturesque sides of her story have 
aroused a sentimental interest, declare that her 
fault lay in lingering after her mission was ended, 
in remaining to guide, after she had ceased to be 

This is a very vain and superficial view of a great 
servant of God ; how superficial, only a study of 
the learned and spiritual authors, who have written 
concerning Jeanne d'Arc, can show. After the re- 
lief of Orleans, the great French doctor, Gerson, 


(to whom has been ascribed the authorship of the 
Imitation of Christ,) who was closing his stormy life 
in the quiet of a religious house at Lyons, ceased 
his swan song, a commentary on the Canticle of 
Canticles, to set forth his reasons for believing in the 
divine mission of the Maid. He concluded with the 
following prophetic words, " Even if the aforesaid 
Maid should be thwarted from all her hopes and ours, 
one ought not to conclude that these things have 
been done by the evil spirit, or not by God ; but that, 
because of our ingratitude and blasphemies, or other- 
wise by the just, though hidden judgment of God, 
there might come to pass the frustration of our ex- 
pectations, in the anger of God, but may He avert 
this from us, and turn all things to good," 

Thomas Basin, Bishop of Lisieux, born in 1412, 
explains upon the same grounds, the failure in 
gaining the full benefits of the mission of Jeanne. 
" Often," he says, " what the Divine mercy grants 
to the grateful, it takes away from the ungrateful." 
For some such reason, he thinks, God allowed the 
Maid to be taken by her enemies, and handed 
over to death. Her prophecies were indeed ful- 
filled in the end, but, " if we rightly understood her 
words," says one of her latest biographers, " less 
than three years should have seen their accomplish- 

It must also be borne in mind that Jeanne de- 
clared that she had an express revelation from God 
to raise the siege of Orleans and to conduct the 
king to be crowned at Rheims. After these two 
great signs of her mission had been accomplished, 


there was a pause in the express revelations, and 
she then spoke, according to prophetic instinct, 
which as St. Thomas, and before him St. Augustine, 
has defined it, is a certain very hidden instinct, which 
the minds of men receive without being aware of 

Suarez, commenting upon this, says, " Holy and 
true prophets do not always speak from certain 
prophecy, but sometimes only from a prophetic in- 
stinct ; then, however, they do not affirm as certain 
those things which they put forward, but speak with 
that uncertainty which they actually have, and 
which they suspect that they have. Wherefore, if 
the instinct was true they are not corrected, but 
after a time, when there comes fuller light and 
revelation from the Holy Spirit, they are confirmed ; 
if, however, the instinct was human, they are cor- 
rected. He cites the case of Nathan, who said to 
David : " Go, do all that is in thy heart, because the 
Lord is with thee. And the same night, the word 
of God came to Nathan saying that David should 
not build the Temple, but that his son should build 
it. In the first instance, Nathan thought that he 
spoke by the spirit of God, afterwards God corrected 
him by express revelation." It may therefore be 
said, generally speaking, that we are now to regard 
the Maid as in a period of hidden prophetic instinct, 
although we shall find her receiving during it, many 
express revelations. 

It seems inconceivable that a King M^ho had re- 
ceived such convincing proofs of the divinity of the 
Maid's mission, should have failed in co-operating 


with the designs of God by generously supporting 
His envoy. There is not the slightest doubt that 
if he had shown at this time, a gleam of that spirit 
which, long years after the Maid's great heart had 
been stilled by death, was to transform him into a 
soldier worthy even of her, France would have been 
his. But at this period of his career he was as indo- 
lent, and as fond of pleasure, as was ever his famous 
namesake, the English Charles the Second, two 
centuries later ; and surrounded by ministers who 
fostered these qualities in him, as the best support 
to that listless waiting for Burgundy to return to his 
allegiance, which they called their policy. Nothing 
makes us realize Jeanne's power more clearly than 
the fact that she forced such a Prince and such a 
council from their pleasant places, into the very heart 
of the enemy's country, bristling with his strong- 
holds. But she was not again to prevail ; and at this 
time she may be said to have entered on her final 
struggle with Charles and his worthless ministers, 
in which she was to be worsted. After the corona- 
tion, her dauntless spirit turned to Paris ; though, 
as she says, neither by nor against the command of 
her Voices. But this was stubbornly opposed by 
the royal council. To those who had not an over- 
whelming belief in the supernatural character of 
Jeanne's mission, there was certainly reason for 
hesitation. Paris, at best, was an uncertain quantity. 
It was true that it did not love the English ; that 
it had been displeased at the setting aside of its 
king, insane though he was, by Henry the Fifth ; 
that it was reduced by famine and pestilence, so 


that grass was growing in many of its streets, and 
in the courtyards of its great mansions, but none of 
these things made it certain that there was any wel- 
come for Charles within its walls. A cosmopolitan, 
cynical city, long the residence of a dissolute court, 
brutalized by the terrible feuds of rival factions, 
there was not to be expected within it the simple un- 
questioning faith that had caused Orleans and the 
other provincial cities to open their gates to the 
Maid as the envoy of Heaven. 

There might be, as Jeanne believed, a certain num- 
ber of its inhabitants willing to rally to the support 
of a King with the coronation of Rheims in his favor, 
but it was small in proportion to the Burgundian 
part of the population, to whom the fact that Charles 
was the anointed king of France, was lost sight of 
in the fact that he was an Armagnac, who had 
waited thirteen years to avenge the murder of 
Orleans, by the murder of Burgundy, and v/ho would 
tlierefore be sure, were Paris surrendered to him, to 
take terrible reprisals for the slaughter of Count 
d'Armagnac and his followers which had taken 
place in that city a few years before. 

Moreover, it must not be forgotten that Paris was 
the home of Jeanne's greatest enemy, the University 
of Paris, that city within the city, which cast the 
first stone of scandal at her, and pursued her with 
relentless hatred even to the scaffold. The English 
have long been regarded as the murderers of Jeanne 
d'Arc, and they have indeed enough to answer for 
in the matter, but their guilt, strangers and enemies 
as they were, is light compared to that of the abject, 


servile body, composed of her own countrymen, 
which, after parading its treason by exploiting the 
roses of England on the walls of the Sorbonne, pros- 
tituted its learning and ecclesiastical character to 
rendering possible the most heinous crime in the 
annals of profane history. 

It would be impossible to explain the animosity 
of the University of Paris towards Jeanne d'Arc, 
without a few words as to its past, and the extent 
of its influence. Cradled in the twelfth century, in 
the episcopal school of Notre Dame, that gave its 
name to the Latin Quarter of Paris, it grew into the 
first organization for the purpose of universal study, 
and was for a long time, almost the sole dispenser of 
the bread of learning in the West. Popes had been 
its pupils. Saint Thomas and Saint Bonaventure 
had occupied chairs within it ; Pontiffs had called 
it the tree of life in the garden of the church. 
Many historians pronounce it, the Papacy, and the 
Holy Roman Empire, to be the three great forces 
that moulded the life of the Middle Ages ; and 
certainly, in a time that had neither books nor 
newspapers, in which Church and State were closely 
united, and religion was closely interwoven with 
the fabric of social and political life, the influ- 
ence exercised by this great institution cannot be 
easily estimated. Ecclesiastical and civil powers 
had conferred on it so many privileges that it had 
grown into an independent State, with a democratic 
form of government, its rector being elected for 
only three months. It acknowledged no civil au- 
thority save the king's, no spiritual jurisdiction 
save the Pope's. 


Its seat being the capital of the country, it canje 
to exercise an immense influence on the govern- 
ment. The historian du Boulay says: "The King 
and the administrators of the Kingdom took counsel 
of the University, and most frequently it was the 
advice of its Doctors that prevailed." But great 
power and influence, are as trying to institutions as 
to individuals, and in the fifteenth century, the 
University had entered upon its period of deca- 
dence ; though, as its historian says, its decisions 
were never more deferred to. But the salt had lost 
its savor ; the clear mental vision of earlier days 
had been blinded by pride and arrogance, and dur- 
ing the Great Schism, when Christendom was be- 
wildered by two Popes claiming its allegiance, the 
University cast all its immense influence on the side 
of the anti-pope, and when it ceased to approve of 
him, succeeded in having the schismatical council of 
Pisa convened, whose only result was to add a third 
Pope to the two already contending for the obedi- 
ence of Europe. 

The University played as equally poor a part in 
the troubles of France which coincided with the 
Great Schism, 1 378-1417. During the long rivalry 
between the Dukes of Burgundy and Orleans, it 
supported the latter, and when he returned to 
Paris after the murder of Orleans, and not only con- 
fessed, but gloried in his crime, one of the Univer- 
sity'sdoctors, Jean Petit, justified tyrannicide in a 
discourse before the Court, without the Univer- 
sity disowning his action. The sympathies of the 
University remained with Burgundy, and though 


after he had become a demagogue, and aroused 
the savage passions of the lowest of the population, 
so that horrors equal to those which marked the 
worst moments of the French Revolution, were en- 
acted in Paris, some of its members were alienated, 
it continued as a body to support him. 

At the parricidal Treaty of Troyes, by which the 
son of Charles Sixth was proscribed, repudiated, 
and declared incapable, he and his race, of reigning, 
and France degraded into an English province, the 
University had been represented by seven of its 
members. When Henry Fifth died, and Paris sent 
a deputation to London to carry to the infant king, 
Henry Sixth, the keys of the city, the University 
sent a separate deputation to convey to the Dukes of 
Bedford and Lancaster, the regents of France and 
of England, and to the queen mother, the assur- 
ance of its fidelity to the blood of Lancaster. As 
a further proof of its devotion, it had the roses of 
England sculptured on the walls of the main build- 
ing of the Sorbonne which it was then erecting next 
to the cloister of St. Benedict, where they remained 
until the time of Richelieu, who tore down the 
building, in order to make room for the new College 
of the Sorbonne which he was erecting. 

In 1417, the Council of Constance restored peace 
to the Church by electing Martin Fifth to the 
Papacy. On the death of Charles Sixth of France, 
this Pontiff wrote a letter to Charles Seventh, then 
at Bourges, in which he saluted him as King of 
France ; and after commenting with sympathy and 
love on the misfortunes of that country, gave him 


truly paternal advice. Thus he implicitly approved 
of the mission of Jeanne d'Arc, whom the Univer- 
sity was to persecute so bitterly for daring to put 
it in the wrong. 

As has been said, one would think that Charles, 
knowing that he had Heaven with him, would have 
boldly marched on Paris in spite of all these 
obstacles. But as usual, he took a middle course, 
evidently seeking to satisfy both Jeanne and his 
ministers, and while moving forward in the direction 
of Paris which he sometimes approached so nearly 
as to behold its towers, with an occasional deviation 
towards the pleasant land beyond the Loire, con- 
eluded a secret treaty with Burgundy, which was 
to last fifteen days, after which the Duke was to 
place the city of Paris in his hands. 

As Charles moved towards the capital, the cities 
of Laon, Soissons, Crecy-en-Brie, and Coulommiers, 
all submitted to him. Chateau-Thierry, which had 
a strong Burgundian garrison, commanded by 
Jean de Croy, Sire de Brun, made some show of 
resistance, but the inhabitants were in favor of 
surrendering the city. When the Maid appeared 
before the walls, they thronged to behold her, and 
as they gazed on the slight mail-clad figure, 
many cried out that they beheld myriads of white 
butterflies hovering about her standard. The fate 
of the city was decided ; it was at once handed 
over to Charles, who allowed the garrison to de- 
part in safety with their goods. 

From Chateau-Thierry the king moved to Provins, 
which he reached on the second of Aujjust. But 


Bedford had been too quick for him, and had en- 
tered Paris some days before with reinforcements 
from Normandy and Picardy. Effecting a junction 
with the troops of Winchester, he marched from 
Paris, and on the fourth of August, arrived at Mont- 
ereau, whence he sent a letter to Charles, in which 
he ordered him to desist from making war on the 
rightful King of France, Henry Sixth of England. 

" Tell thy master," said Charles to Bedford's 
herald after reading the letter ; " that he will have 
little trouble in finding me. It is rather I who am 
in search of him." 

The French moved towards Paris and encamped 
for the night near the Chateau de la Motte de 
Nangis. The following day they prepared for 
battle. Here at least, Jeanne was supreme; king 
and statesmen might ignore her counsels, but the 
army was her own. She disposed her forces, and 
placed her artillery with the same consummate 
wisdom that had already astonished Dunois, d'Alen- 
gon and other commanders, so many times, and 
awaited the attack. 

But the English were prudent. Bedford counted 
on the mad impetuosity of the French which had 
been so fatal at Cr^cy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, 
and remained passive, waiting for them to charge 
within his hnes. When he saw that this expecta- 
tion was not to be realized, he fell back on Paris. 

This hesitation on the part of the famous Eng- 
lish general to give battle, deepened the enthusiasm 
for Charles, and caused two important cities — Beau- 
vais and Compi^gne, to submit to him. 


Beauvais was an episcopal city, and its sub- 
mission to Charles has a peculiar interest, bringing 
before us, as it does, for the first time, him whose 
name was to be linked with that of Jeanne d'Arc, 
to be execrated, as long as sympathy for the in- 
nocent, the defenceless, and the persecuted, shall 
touch chords of pity in the human heart, — Pierre 
Cauchon, who had received Beauvais, which had 
been taken by Henry Fifth, as his reward for the 
active part which, as one of the seven representa- 
tives of the University of Paris, he had taken in 
effecting the Treaty of Troyes. To him, in the en- 
joyment of his pomp and power, it may have seemed 
that the people were indifferent as to what flag 
waved over the citadel, provided they were free to 
ply their trades, and maintain the traffic that went 
on in the busy streets. But this was only Norman 
caution, which told them that any other course 
would be useless so near the centre of English power. 
In their hearts they never forgot that they had been 
French for more than two hundred years. Then 
came the story of the Maid whom God had sent 
to save France, and soon, within the tall, gabled 
houses, in the halles, and narrow streets, the marvels 
she had accomplished were the inexhaustible sub- 
ject of conversation. As the king moved norths 
ward, and city after city submitted to him, there 
was much speculation in Beauvais as to his coming 
thither, and impatient eyes, no doubt, scanned from 
the walls, the great white roads stretching away in 
the summer sunshine, in quest of the royal banners, 
and the glittering breastplate of the Maid, that men 
said could be seen so far. 


And so, when Charles' herald appeared before the 
city, and sounded his summons to surrender, he 
was answered with a great shout of " Long live King 
Charles Seventh, King of France," the gates were 
thrown open, and the herald conducted to the cathe- 
dral where the Te Deum was sung. The Bishop, 
meanwhile, fled from the city and took refuge at 
Rouen, where he still was when the Court was being 
formed that was to try Jeanne d'Arc. 



" Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, 
And keep not back your royal powers in dalliance." 

On the seventeenth of August, the King re- 
ceived at Crespy, the keys of Compiegne. He at 
once estabHshed his headquarters in that city, and 
gave himself up to ease and enjoyment, to which he 
gave a color of business, by his farcical negotiations 
with Burgundy. There was no talk or sign of 
moving on Paris, and finally, d'Alengon and other 
leaders, weary of forced inaction, went off to 
Normandy, and captured four great fortresses there, 
chief of which was the famous Chateau-Gaillard 
built by Richard Cceur de Lion, on the great cliffs 
above the Seine, where its ruins are still to be 
seen. In fact, in such danger was Normandy, the 
centre of English power, at this time, that Bed- 
ford hastened from Paris, with an army, to defend 
it. This gave Charles a splendid opportunity to 
attack the capital. But he paid no heed. 

The Maid had never approved of the Treaty 
with the Duke of Burgundy, declaring that there 
was no peace to be made with' him save at the 
point of the lance. Writing to the people of 
Rheims the day after it was entered into, " from 


her lodging in the camp, on the road to Paris," she 
says : " It is true that the King has made a 
Treaty with the Duke of Burgundy to last fifteen 
days, so that he may render the city of Paris peace-r 
ably at the end of that time. Do not, however, be 
surprised if 1 enter the city before, in spite of the 
Treaty. I am not content with it, and I do not 
know if I will keep it. If I do hold to it, it will 
be only to guard the honor of the King ; and that 
they may not abuse nor deceive again the blood 
royal, I will keep together the army of the King, so 
as to be ready at the end of fifteen days, if they 
make not peace." 

The Treaty ended, but Paris was not surrendered. 
It was a favorable moment to attack it, for the 
English forces were still in Normandy, leaving it 
defended only by the troops of Burgundy. But the 
time was again wasted in negotiating fresh treaties 
with Burgundy, the Duke of Savoy having now as- 
sumed the part of mediator. On the twenty-eighth 
of August, a new Treaty was concluded at Com- 
piegne. This insured a suspension of hostilities for 
six months, both in Normandy, and in the Isle 
of France. The only place excepted was Paris, 
but this was not, as one would imagine, in order 
that Charles might reserve the right to re-conquer 
his capital. No, this king of shreds and patches, 
allowed war to be made on Paris, in order to assure 
Duke Philip the freedom of defending Paris against 
those who would attack or damage the city. In 
other words, Charles, realizing that it would be im- 
possible to prevent Jeanne from attacking Paris, 


authorized the Burgundlans to repulse her, thus 
morally leaguing himself with her enemies against 
the liberator of France. 

In the meantime he received the submission of the 
principal cities of Picardy ; Saint-Quentin, Corbie, 
Amiens, and Abbeville, for says the Burgundian 
historian Monstrelet, " the greater part of the in- 
habitants were ready to receive him as God, and 
desired nothing in the world so much as to yield 
him obedience." But there was nothing per- 
manent or assured without the capture of Paris. 

Seeing this more and more clearly, and realizing 
that it was hopeless to prevail on the king to lead 
thither, especially now that he had entered into 
another Treaty with Burgundy, Jeanne took mat- 
ters into her own hands, and sending for d'Alengon, 
the nominal commander-in-chief of the army, said to 
him : " Fair duke, make ready your men, and those 
of the other captains : I would fain see Paris 
nearer than I have yet seen it." 

The army was still composed of the men of 
Orleans, Patay, and the triumphal march to Rheims, 
who deemed her standard invincible, and at the 
magic word Paris, there was created one of those 
enthusiasms such as had compelled the march to 
Rheims, by whose current both king and council 
were overborne. Preparations were soon completed, 
and on the twenty-third of August, the Maid rode 
out of the city of Compiegne, followed by an army, 
every man of which believed he was going to another 
Orleans. Rather than be left alone, so near the 
centre of English power, king and council re- 


luctantly followed. On the twenty-fifth, they 
reached St. Denis, the city of the royal sepulture, 
which was, says Michelet, " like the city of the 
coronation, a holy city." They were now, in effect, 
under the walls of Paris. 

Jeanne was received at St. Denis with enthusiasm, 
and asked to be godmother to two infants, who were 
about to be baptized. 

A few days later, however, an incident occurred 
which was regarded as an evil omen by all. The dis- 
cipline and morality, which Jeanne had introduced 
into the army, had been difficult to maintain. The 
captains, who were jealous of her, strove by their ex- 
ample, and their tolerance of vice, to counterbalance 
her influence. Matters grew worse when the King 
and his retinue joined the army, and Jeanne had the 
bitterness of seeing the soldiers whom she had raised 
to the level of Christian heroes, sinking again into 
the depths of sin, and justifying themselves in their 
evil courses, by the royal example. Such things 
were an outrage to Jeanne's virginal heart, and 
chancing one day to meet a woman of evil reputation 
within the camp, she raised her sword — the holy 
sword of Fierbois — and struck her with the side of 
the blade, sternly ordering her to begone. But as 
if the touch of anything unclean were fatal to the 
blessed weapon, the tempered steel broke in two. 
The Maid was deeply affected by the circumstance 
and even the king was troubled. " You should have 
taken a stick," he said to her, " and not used the 
sword which came to you divinely, as you say." 

But if Jeanne's sword was broken, her faith and 


courage were not. She was eager to open the 
attack on Paris ; but she was forced to be passive 
for some days, in order, as the king said, to give the 
people time to make a voluntary submission. 
Many of the captains even, believed, that at the last 
hour, the people would rise and declare for the king. 
They were sadly mistaken. In vain they waited, 
in vain d'Alengon shot proclamations over the 
walls to the burghers. The English leaders had 
persuaded the inhabitants that Charles, an Armagnac, 
would take terrible vengeance on the city for the 
Armagnac slaughter of years before, and far from 
entertaining any thought of surrender, the Parisians 
were preparing to resist to death. 

At length, on the seventh of September, after 
twelve days had gone by, the king consented, or 
rather agreed to tolerate the attack. According to 
the terms of the treaty, he himself took no part in it, 
however, and remained at Saint Denis with one 
third of the army, while Jeanne and the rest of it — 
about seven thousand men — advanced to La Cha- 

That very day there was a sharp skirmish. The 
Parisians claimed the victory, and congratulated 
themselves, as if the struggle were over, and they 
victorious. The Bourgeois of Paris, who was in reality 
Jean ChufTart, the successor of Gerson as chancel- 
lor of the University, recounts in his Chronicle, 
'' that they were proud to have fought against this 
creature in the form of a woman whom they called 
La Pucelle, — who was, God knows what." 

The following day, Jeanne began the attack in 


earnest. At eight o'clock in the morning, the army 
moved from La Chapelle. It was the eighth of 
September, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, and 
the pious city of Paris affected to be scandalized by 
the besiegers attacking on such a day. The troops 
were divided into two sections ; one of which 
was to attack, the other to prevent sorties, and 
cover the assailants. It was decided to storm the 
gate St. Honor6, and the artillery was placed so as 
to destroy a strong work that defended it. By noon 
this was done sufficiently to sound the assault, which 
carried it by storm. Then, as the gate remained 
closed, and there was no sortie from the city, Jeanne, 
carrying her standard, and followed by several of 
her boldest captains, dashed into the first of the two 
moats that surrounded the walls. She crossed it 
in safety, but found that the second was filled with 
water and mud. Utterly unmindful of her danger, 
she stood on the edge of this ditch, sounding it in 
different places with her lance, and calling for fagots 
to fill it up. The soldiers hastened to obey, and 
prepare the passage for the assault, while the 
Parisians devoted all their energies to preventing it. 
tannon and culverins were trained so as to hurl 
their huge stones and bullets on this point, and 
the archers sent thither their great shafts in death- 
dealing showers. Amid the choking smoke, the 
groans and cries of the wounded mingled with the 
insults and imprecations that were tossed to and 
fro between the combatants. In the terrible 
scene, Jeanne stood calm and intrepid, directing the 
assault, and calling from time to time, in her clear 


young tones : " Yield to the King of France ! " 
Suddenly she fell, pierced in the leg by a cross-bow 
bolt, while at the self-same moment, her standard- 
bearer fell, mortally wounded. Knowing that her 
retirement would dishearten the soldiers, Jeanne 
refused to be carried away, although the loss of 
blood from her wound was very great. She had her- 
self placed on the bank between the two ditches, and 
from there continued, to give orders, and encourage 
the assault. But the afternoon wore away, and 
twilight fell, without the besiegers gaining any ad- 
vantage. The captains would have sounded the 
retreat, but Jeanne would not hear of it, declaring 
that if they persevered, they would triumph. 

At length, at ten o'clock at night, the D«ke of 
d'Alengon, and Gaucourt, ordered the troops to fall 
back. They then removed the Maid by force, and 
placed her on horseback, to carry her to the camp 
at Sainte Chapelle. As they rode rapidly away, 
under a rain of bullets that showered on them 
from the St. Denis, to the St. Lazare Gate, she kept 
reproachfully repeating : ** By my Martin, it would 
have been taken." 

It is said that she had promised the soldiers that 
they would sleep in Paris that night, and that as 
they gathered their dead on the field, under the 
frowning walls of the still uncaptured city, they 
cursed her. There is no good authority for either of 
these stories, any more than there is for the as- 
sertion of Michelet, that she felt this solemn check 
under the walls of Paris, to be fatal. It was a little 
too soon for such utter distrust and despair. At 


Orleans, where the French had had more in their 
favor than here, they had suffered repulses, and had 
to fight several days before taking the city. 

Jeanne seemed far from despairing, the following 
morning. In spite of her wound, she was up at 
dawn, and ordered the trumpets to be sounded for 
another attack on Paris. As the bustle of prep- 
aration filled the camp, a band of horsemen was seen 
approaching along the road from that city. As the 
little troop drew near enough to distinguish the 
colors of the silken banner that streamed out undef 
the newly-risen sun, it was seen to be that of Mont- 
morency. It was indeed the great baron, come out 
of Paris with fifty or sixty gentlemen, to join the 
army of the holy Maid. 

Their arrival caused great enthusiasm, and the 
hearts of the soldiers began to beat high with hope. 
All was ready for departure, when a new force was 
seen approaching — this time from the direction of 
Saint Denis. Jeanne's heart must have sunk when 
she saw it, for she must have foreboded the kind of 
tidings that always came from the King. 

In a few moments, Rene d' Anjou, and the Count 
de Clermont rode up with orders from the King for 
Jeanne to return to Saint Denis with the army. 
There was incredulity, anger, and expostulation, on 
the part of Jeanne and her captains, but the messen- 
gers only repeated their imperative orders, and so at 
last the trumpets sounded, and Jeanne and her 
army turned their faces from the spires of Paris, 
gleaming in the morning sun, and their hearts from 
the vision of its conquest, and sorrowfully took the 
road to St. Denis. 


On the way, d' Alengon strove to console Jeanne 
who, from the pain of her wound and disappoint- 
ment combined, must have been suffering intensely, 
by laying before her his plans for storming Paris at 
another point, and one that would surprise its 
defenders, — by means of a bridge which he had 
thrown across the Seine at Saint Denis. 

Doubtless the brave, heroic heart rose again at 
this plan of d' Alengon, but if so, it was only to be 
cast down again on her arrival at Saint Denis. The 
King, without even deigning to explain why, 
ordered the bridge to be destroyed. And yet in the 
face of this cowardice and treachery, one hears 
wonder expressed that Jeanne d' Arc did not bring 
her mission to a glorious conclusion ! 

Five days later, when Jeanne's wound was some- 
what healed, she went to the Abbey Church of Saint 
Denis, followed by the King, and the princes of the 
blood, and after prostrating herself before the altar of 
the patron saint of the kings of France, hung up her 
armor on one of the columns of the basilica, in hom- 
age to him whom she had so often invoked in battle, 
" for him who is the cry of France " she herself said. 

Some writers have taken this as an indication that 
Jeanne saw that all hope of saving France was over. 
But she was only complying with a pious custom of 
the time which ordained that after a soldier had been 
wounded, and had recovered, he should dedicate his 
armor to St. Denis. And so, amid the grim and dusty 
iron mail of France's great warriors, she, who was to 
make the noblest page in her country's history, hung 
up the silver mail that had shone like a star of hope 


amid the grime, and dust, and smoke, of battle, on its 
defenders. The Maid's armor was not suffered to 
remain long in the royal basilica. A little later, the 
English-Burgundian garrison of Paris made a descent 
on Saint Denis, and forced the Count of Clermont, 
who was in command there, to yield the town, which 
was given up to pillage. By order of the Chancel- 
lor of Luxembourg, Louis de Therouanne, Jeanne's 
armor was carried off and sent to the King of Eng- 
land, without the least compensation being made to 
the church, " which is sacrilege pure and manifest," 
says the aggrieved Monk of St. Denis, Jean Chartier. 



" Heroic souls set opinion, success, and life at so cheap a rate 
that they will not soothe their enemies by petitions, or the show 
of sorrow, but wear their own habitual greatness." 

Jeanne d' Arc, through the failure of those who 
should have supported her, to do so, had received 
her first check. She had entered on the sorrowful 
way which was to lead by Compiegne to the scaffold 
of Rouen. There was a revulsion of feeling through- 
out the land ; the people, not understanding how 
Jeanne had been betrayed, saw only that she, whom 
they had deemed invincible, had failed ; that Paris 
was still in the hands of the English, and the royal 
army in retreat. Jeanne was now, too, for the first 
time, forced to disobey her Voices. Amid her pain 
and disappointment, she had heard again their 
heavenly cadences, sustaining and consoling her, and 
bidding her " remain at Saint Denis ! " But the 
King had no intention of remaining in the dangerous 
neighborhood of Paris. He was weary of business 
and the toils of war, and longed for his beloved Tou- 
raine and the gay, pleasant life of the court. As for 
Jeanne, he and his council had determined that her 
future movements should be regulated by them. So 
he commanded her to accompany him, and wounded 
and helpless as she was, she was forced Lo obey. On 


the thirteenth of September, the King and army 
moved from Saint Denis towards the Loire. The 
change in popular sentiment was shown by the fact 
that several towns refused to open their gates as they 
passed. At length they arrived at Gien, whence 
three months before, they had marched out to the 
sound of martial music, with banners waving, and 
the God-speed of the gazing multitudes sounding in 
their ears, on their triumphal march to Rheims. 
Charles had promised the towns that had declared 
for him that he would give them strong garrisons to 
protect them from the English who now viewed them 
as traitors. But the short term of feudal service 
was over, and there were now no eager throngs, as be- 
fore, seeking service under the holy banner, so the 
army was disbanded, and the King declared the 
campaign ended, and left the towns to bear the 
consequences of loyalty as best they might. He had 
great hopes from the Treaty with Burgundy, espe- 
cially as, at the united petitions of the University, the 
burghers, and the parliament, the duke had been 
made governor of Paris, and waited for some days at 
Gien, expecting him to fulfill his promise. 

Seeing that there was no hope of effecting anything 
with the king, d' Alengon proposed to make another 
descent on Normandy by way of Maine and Brittany 
on condition that Jeanne be allowed to go with 
him. But Charles refused to allow Jeanne to ac- 
company him, so d' Alencon went home to his prov- 
ince and his anxious wife. 

Charles now resumed the light, frivolous, exist- 
ence from which Jeanne had so rudely torn him, 


three months before. From castle to castle, he and 
his court wandered, sailing along the rivers, in the 
royal barges, with minstrels singing roundelays to 
the sound of lutes, or riding, a splendid train of cava- 
liers and ladies, from place to place, but always en- 
grossed with the hunting or the hawking, the 
frolicking, the feasting, or the dancing, that made up 
their life. And with these indolent, cynical, men 
and women, Jeanne d'Arc was obliged to tarry, with 
her great heart wearing itself out in inaction, while 
from afar came tidings of French blood spilt in 
abortive attempts to capture English strongholds 
here or there, for the war had now sunk once more 
to the guerilla-like warfare it had been before 
Jeanne's coming, in which men mounted and rode 
quite independentl}^ of the king. Charles never 
failed in kindness to her ; she had an establishment 
of her own, rich gifts were showered upon her, and 
she was exempted from all the restrictions of court 

In December, letters-patent were issued, confirm- 
ing the right of the Maid's family to the rank of 
nobility which the king had conferred upon it after 
Orleans. Owing to the fact that the honor had been 
won by a woman, the grant contained a very unusual 
clause, by which the descendants in the female 
branches of the family, as well as in the male, were 
ennobled. The name of the family was changed to 
Du Lys. In 1614, the rank of nobility was re- 
stricted to the male branches of the family. The 
last representative of these, Henri Francois de Cou- 
lombe Dul3^s, Canon of Champeaux, and Prior of 
Coutras, died on the twenty-ninth of June, 1760. 


But what were letters of nobility, or fine estab- 
lishments, or rich gifts, to a soul like Jeanne's, when 
freedom to do its work was denied it? It was at 
this time, no doubt, that she began to look like 
Fremiet's great statue of her which stands in the 
Place des Pyramides in Paris, — a heroic figure, with 
a noble face, full of resolution, but grave and sorrow- 
ful, with the shadow of impending martyrdom 
upon it. 

The war might go as it pleased in the provinces 
of the north and the Isle of France, and Charles 
cared little, provided that he retained a certain por- 
tion of the realm. When this was in danger, as it 
had been when Orleans was invested, his terror had 
been great, and he had yielded to the Maid's 
guidance. Now that affairs had attained their 
former status, she was kept in readiness to repel 
any attempt that might destroy it. In the late 
autumn, the English began to invest some of the 
places on the upper Loire. This was a nearer 
approach to the royal residences than Charles and 
his favorites approved, and the Maid was accord- 
ingly sent to Bourges to recruit a force to repel 
them. While in that city, where she stayed a month, 
she was the guest of the lady Margaret de la Tou- 
rolde, widow of Ren6 de Bouligny, the treasurer of 
the King. Like every woman brought into contact 
with Jeanne, this great lady grew to love her ten- 
derly. At the Rehabilitation, she deposed that she 
had lived intimately with her during her stay at her 
house, even sharing the same room with her at 
night. Jeanne, she said, confessed and communi- 


cated often, and loved to assist at Mass; and often 
took her to Matins with her. She was very pious 
and very charitable, and said, " that she was come 
to console the poor and suffering." 

When Jeanne had succeeded in obtaining some 
soldiers, she proceeded with the Sire d'Albret, to 
the town of Saint-Pierre-le-Moustier. At the first 
attack, the French were repulsed with such heavy 
loss that they retreated. Jeanne, with only five or 
six faithful companions, remained before the ram- 
parts, heedless of the fierce fire of the enemy. Her 
faithful ecuyer, d'Aulon, though wounded, ran back 
to her, and asked her why she remained when all 
had fallen back. Jeanne raised her visor, and an- 
swered : " I have fifty thousand men with me, and 
I must take the city. " Then her clear voice, rang out, 
ordering fagots and stones to be brought to make 
a passage across the moat. The soldiers turned 
back, obeyed her order, and in a little while carried 
the town by assault. The soldiers pillaged it, 
but Jeanne forced them to respect a church in 
which the inhabitants had placed their most val- 
uable possessions. Two vases belonging to the 
church had been carried away ; she had these re- 

After this success, Jeanne, informed of the prep- 
arations which Bedford and Burgundy were mak- 
ing to retake the cities which had opened their gates 
to King Charles, pleaded once more to be allowed 
to go to their succor. But the king, intent only 
on his own safety, ordered her instead, to proceed 
against La Charit^-sur-Loire. She obeyed, not- 


withstanding many unfavorable presentiments. 
The town was defended by a noted Burgundian 
captain, Pierre Grasset, and had a strong garrison, 
while the French were lacking in almost every- 
thing required for the attack. The needy king 
could furnish nothing, but the city of Orleans, ever 
faithful to its Maid, gave money for the support of 
the soldiers, and furnished gunners. After a 
siege of torty days, however, their supplies being 
used up, and no more forthcoming, the French 
were obliged to retire. Some weeks later, Pierre 
Grasset yielded the city to Charles. After the 
check at La Charity, the king ordered the Maid to 
proceed to Sully-sur-Loire, the domain of his favor- 
ite La Tremouille. Here she remained three 

There are three letters still in existence, which 
bear the mark of the Maid, and are written from 
this town. One to the Hussites of Bohemia, of 
which only a German translation remains, is dated 
March third, 1430. As she was not questioned 
about this letter at her trial, it is impossible to say 
positively whether she was or was not the author of 
it ; or, if she was, whether it is really as she dictated 
it. The fact that it lacks the simplicity of Jeanne's 
other compositions, would suggest the latter, at 
least. It must be remembered that Jeanne did not 
know how to read or write, a fact that placed 
her at a terrible disadvantage in dealing with un- 
scrupulous people. In this letter, she reproaches the 
Hussites for the cruelty and horrible excesses of 
which they have been guilty, and threatens, if they 


do not f.orsake their errors, and amend their lives, 
that she will come among them with the sword. If 
Jeanne wrote this letter, it is more than probable 
that it was in a crusade against these fierce heretics, 
that she was inviting the English, in her letter to 
them before Orleans, to join the French. The other 
two letters are to the people of Rheims, and are 
answers to ones written to her. Knowing of the 
approaching campaign of Bedford and Burgundy, 
and fearing that Rheims, as the city of the cor- 
onation, will incur their special vengeance, the in- 
habitants write to the Maid for counsel. She 
urges them, in reply, to stand for the King, and 
assures them that she will be with them in case of 
a siege. 

On the twenty-eighth of March, they write to her 
again, to tell how certain traitorous Burgundians 
have been intriguing with some badly-disposed 
citizens within the city. She answers, assuring her 
"friends" of the good disposition of the King to- 
wards them, and announcing the good news of the 
submission of the Duke of Brittany. She con- 
cludes by promising them prompt assistance. 

A short time after Jeanne's return to court, an 
urgent appeal for help was sent to her from Melun, 
a town on the Seine, south of Paris, which, after 
having risen and expelled its English garrison, had 
now to sustain a close siege by a large force of 
Burgundians and English. As the fall of so dis- 
tant a town would be no menace to the safety of 
the royal domain, Charles forbade her to go. But 
if Charles could feast and dance and jest, while 


French blood flowed like water, and men and 
women were threatened with the death of traitors 
for having proclaimed allegiance to him, it was 
more than Jeanne d'Arc could do. Her place was 
not here with these giddy triflers ; her great heart 
was beating in unison with the hearts of those 
agonizing men and women gazing from the walls of 
the beleaguered city, in quest of the standard that 
meant deliverance. It was not to the King that 
they had sent, it was to her, and she would not fail 
them. So saying no word, she one day mounted 
her horse, and rode away forever from the court 
whither she had come like a being from another 
world, and where her passing was no doubt regarded 
as a relief. She never saw the King again. In a 
few weeks, she was in the hands of her enemies in 
a little more than a year, she was dead. Charles 
seems to have felt little concern for her fate ; a half- 
witted shepherd boy took her place at court, and 
all went on as before. But it may be that in the 
King's last days, when distrust of every human 
being had girt him about with a loneliness such as 
encompassed the Maid in her captivity, among the 
host of accusing memories that rose between his 
fearful soul and Heaven, not the least was his moral 
treason towards Jeanne d'Arc. 


" Endurance or patience, that is the central sign of spirit." 

Jeanne went to Melun, and raised the siege. 
It was on the walls of this city, one day during the 
month of April, that her Voices made her one of 
the few revelations she ever received in regard to 
herself. It was, that she would be taken prisoner 
before the Feast of Saint John, but that she was 
not to be terrified, but bear it patiently, for that 
God would aid her. Jeanne asked when this would 
be, " in order," as she naively said, at her trial, 
" that she might be careful not to go out that day." 
But to this question the Voices would give no di- 
rect reply, simply exhorting her " to bear all pa- 
tiently." '* Do not grieve at thy martyrdom," they 
added, " for thou shalt shortly come into Paradise." 

After several short expeditions in the neighbor- 
hood of Melun, Jeanne went to Lagny-sur-Marne. 
As soon as she entered the town, the people rushed 
to tell her that an infant had been born dead there 
three days before, and that its body was still lying 
in the church, with all the young girls gathered 
about it, praying God to restore it to life long 
enough to receive baptism. 

The fate of the hapless little one, shut out from 


the presence of God forever, smote the Maid's 
saintly heart with pity. She went at once to the 
church, and up the long aisle, to where the tiny 
waxen form lay, before the high altar, with the 
pleading maidens grouped about it, and knelt in 
prayer. After a few moments, a quiver of life ran 
through the child's hmbs ; it began to breathe, and 
uttered a cry. Baptism was at once administered, 
after which it died. The people cried out that a 
miracle had taken place, but Jeanne, with her usual 
wisdom and circumspection, would say nothing. 
Being interrogated at her trial, as to whether she 
had restored the child to life, she answered : " As 
to that, I have no knowledge." 

Jeanne's errand to Lagny was to apprehend a 
certain Franquet d'Arras, who, at the head of a 
band of four hundred English and Burgundian cut- 
throats, ranged through the country, committing 
the most terrible crimes. Jeanne was determined 
to free the people from this scourge, and learning 
that he and his band, loaded with booty, were to 
pass by Lagny, she rode thither with three or four 
hundred picked soldiers, and encountered them 
near the town. The brigands retreated behind 
hedges, and into the depths of thickets, whence their 
famous bowmen kept up such a fire on Jeanne's men 
that they were once forced to retreat. But the 
f'-arrison of Lagny, commanded by the valiant Sire 
de Foucaud, arrived with artillery, and d'Arras, 
forced from his fastnesses, was obliged to surrender. 
Nearly all his men were put to the sword, but the 
judges of Lagny and the bailly of Senlis, reclaimed 


d'Arras in order to try him, for as they said, he 
was not a prisoner of war, but a thief, a murderer, 
and a traitor. Jeanne wished to exchange him for 
a worthy Parisian, the keeper of the famous hostehy 
of the Bear, in that city, who had been imprisoned 
for being concerned in some enterprise in favor of the 
King. But learning that the Parisian inn-keeper 
was dead, she said : " In that case, do with this man 
what justice demands." After a trial of fifteen 
days, the robber-chief, convicted of crimes by scores 
of witnesses, was condemned and executed. 

The death of d'Arras, who was highly prized by 
both English and Burgundians for his bravery and 
daring, increased, if possible, their hatred for Jeanne. 
They declared that she had violated her plighted 
faith, and broken all the rules of war. Many went 
so far as to say that she had killed d'Arras with her 
own hand. The fear with which she had always in- 
spired the English soldiers, was intensified. The 
men who had enlisted in England, fled sooner than 
go to France to fight against the witch, and the 
government was obliged to put in force severe or- 
dinances against both captains and soldiers who 
delayed, or refused to set out. 

Jeanne's estimate of the Duke of Burgundy's in-^ 
tentions proved only too true. At the expiration 
of the Treaty, instead of peace, the French had 
twenty years more of war. When the Treaty had 
been made, Philip had required the city of Com- 
piegne to be given to him as a gage of its being 
kept ; but the loyal city, which had so lately thrown 
open its gates to the king, refused to be handed 


over to the traitor Burgundy, and the latter was 
forced to accept Pont-Saint Maxence instead. As 
soon as the Treaty was ended, Burgundy moved with 
a large force to take reprisal on Compiegne. As 
soon as Jeanne learned of the patriotic little city's 
peril, she declared : " I am going to see my good 
friends at Compiegne," words which are still to be 
seen around the base of her statue in the great 
square of that city. Almost alone, she entered it, 
to animate the zeal of these last partisans of the 
royal cause. Her time was short, at best she had 
only to the Saint John, and knowing how the enemy 
regarded her, she could have had no illusions as to 
her fate. But it was not this that disturbed her 
soul, it was the consciousness of treachery. On the 
very morning of her arrival at Compiegne, after 
having heard mass, and communicated, at the altar 
of the parish church of Saint Jacques, she was 
kneeling in prayer, when a number of little children 
stole up softly to look at the Wonderful Maid who, 
they had been told, was to deliver the city. Like 
her Master, who, when on earth, took most joy in 
little children, Jeanne had always loved them 
tenderly ; and now, when her heart was almost 
bursting with the knowledge of betrayal, she looked 
down into their innocent, wondering faces, and 
spoke out all her grief. 

" My children and dear friends, I wish to tell you 
that I have been sold and betrayed and shall soon 
be given up to death ! I beg you to pray God for 
me, for never more shall I have power to serve tlie 
Kino- or France." 


From these words, some writers have thought 
that Jeanne had a prophetic knowledge of her 
betrayal by Gillaume de Flavy, governor of Com- 
piegne. But as Guizot says : " There are crimes so 
odious that no one should be accused of them with- 
out the most overwhelming evidence of his guilt." 
It is true that de Flavy was one of those creatures 
that appear in times of great civil disorder — 
seemingly utterly devoid of all moral sense — who 
after a life of the most horrible crime and cruelty, 
the crown of which was the murder of his grand- 
father, died by the hand of his wife whom he had 
maddened by his brutality, and that tradition says 
that the final provocation to the terrible deed was 
the betrayal of the Maid, which her husband had re- 
vealed in his sleep ; but there is not the slightest 
proof that he was guilty of this crime. 

What Jeanne meant was not that gross treason 
which consists in the violation of the essential prin- 
ciple of honor by a particular act, but that moral 
treason which springs from the lack of support, and 
the predominance of the passions of individuals over 
the common interest. If king and council had co- 
operated with her, her work would now have been 
well-nigh done, instead of being delayed for twenty 
years. And even if the fate impending over her, had 
been still permitted by God, it would have lost its 
worst bitterness, if she could have seen France tri- 

The prospect of her terrible fate did not steal the 
energy from her arms, or the earnestness from her 
soul. What was left to her of freedom, she was re- 
solved to give, as she had given all, to France. 


Jeanne found the city of Compiegne in great 
straits ; having only a force of sixteen hundred men, 
besides the militia, to defend it. She went to 
Crespy-en-Valois, a town directly south of Com- 
piegne, to obtain reinforcements, and succeeded in 
, gathering three or four hundred men whom she led 
into Compiegne at midnight, on the twenty-third of 
May, 1430. 

Compiegne lies between Beauvais and Rheims, on 
the southern bank of the Oise, on the opposite 
bank of which is a great marsh nearly a mile broad, 
that stretches northward to where the rising ground 
of Picardy rises like a wall, shutting in the horizon. 
This marsh is crossed by an ancient raised road 
that reaches from the end of the bridge that crosses 
the Oise, to the foot of these hills of Picardy, and 
ends in the village of Margny. Three quarters of 
a league to the east on this marsh, at the confluence 
of the Aronde and the Oise, is the village of Clairoix, 
while half a league to the west lies a third hamlet, 
Venette. The Burgundians who were besieging 
Compiegne, had one camp at Margny, and another 
at Clairoix. Beyond, in the valley of the Aronde, 
the Duke of Burgundy himself, with a reserve force, 
was encamped. The English had their headquar- 
ters at Venette. 

At the end of the bridge, where the road began 
that lead across the marsh to Margny, the de- 
fenders of Compiegne had erected one of those re- 
doubts, or towers, which, in the fifteenth century, 
were called boulevards. 

The morning after her midnight arrival at Com- 


piegne, Jeanne arranged with its captain, Gillaume 
de Flavy, the details of a sortie to be undertaken 
towards sunset. Jeanne was to lead her forces 
across the bridge, and up the road to Margny, and 
attack the Burgundian camp there ; after having 
taken that, she was to ride eastward to Clairoix, 
and engage the Burgundians there, hoping to draw 
the Duke and his reserve force from their camp 
farther on, to their assistance. De Flavy's part was 
to prevent the English from Venette from cutting 
off her retreat. He provided against this by placing 
a strong force of archers in the boulevard at the end 
of the bridge, and by keeping a number of covered 
boats on the Oise to receive the foot-soldiers in case 
of a retrograde movement. 

On the twenty-fourth of May, at five o'clock in 
the afternoon, Jeanne mounted her horse for the last 
military service she was ever to render her beloved 
France. As often before any great misfortune, the 
heart is filled with happiness, so Jeanne, and with 
her, the people, and the soldiers, were serene and 
confident of the issue. As for Jeanne herself, she 
had special cause for rejoicing. Out there beyond 
the marshes, where the little villages lay, with the 
crosses on their church spires glittering in the mel- 
low sunlight, was the great enemy of France — the 
arch-traitor, who was shedding her last blood and 
draining her of every resource. If it might be that 
she could draw him into the battle, and take him 
prisoner — ah then, what mattered the rest ? God's 
will be done. 

The people, never weary of gazing at the wonder- 


ful spectacle of a young girl commanding the 
soldiers of France, crowded about as Jeanne rode 
towards the gate, with her great standard borne 
before her, admiring the slim figure on the magnifi- 
cent horse, attired in a rich tunic of crimson silk 
embroidered with gold and silver, over her armor, 
and carrying a sword. On arriving there, she placed 
herself at the head of her guards, who were com- 
manded by a lieutenant named Barette, and other 
brave soldiers, numbering in all about five hundred ; 
the gates were thrown open, and with a shout of 
" God and St. Denis," that was taken up and echoed 
within the city, the little band sped across the 
bridge, and along the road to Margny, with the 
sunshine glittering on the white Standard streaming 
out in the soft May breeze, and on the armor and 
spears of the knights and soldiers. The action at 
Margny was brief, and in a few moments the camp 
had yielded. The Burgundians at Clairoix hurried 
up to the assistance of their brothers-in-arms, but 
were repulsed. Then they repulsed the French, 
who in turn caused them to retreat. A third time 
the Burgundians advanced, and caused the French 
to fall back. 

While the fight was thus going on without serious 
injury to either side, the English decided to take 
part in the fray. In spite of de Flavy's precau- 
tions, they passed the boulevard in large numbers, 
and the French, terrified lest their retreat into the 
city be cut off, began to show signs of panic. 
Jeanne, seeing that it was useless to forbid the 
retreat, endeavored to control it. She joined the 


rear-guard, to protect the main body from the fire 
of the Burgundians who followed in hot pursuit. 
Monstrelet, then quarter-general of the Duke of Bur- 
gundy, says in his Chronicle, " that she directed the 
retreat with great ability." George Chastellain, 
another historian who was present, says that the 
Maid, " surpassing the nature of woman, sustained 
great peril, and took much trouble to save her com- 
pany from loss, remaining behind as chief, and the 
most valiant of the troop." The English, seeing 
their advantage, hastened towards the bridge so as 
to intercept the French who were fleeing towards 
it. As it was now dusk, the archers in the boule- 
vard were deterred from firing through fear of injur- 
ing some of their own people ; and de Flavy, seeing 
only the breathless race of a throng of fugitives 
among whom it was impossible to distinguish friend 
from foe, became fearful lest the enemy might 
effect an entrance into the city along with the 
French, and abruptly closed the gates. 

Jeanne, meanwhile, totally ignorant of this, 
fought on bravely. A little guard of devoted gentle- 
men, reaHzing her peril, closed up around her, but 
even in the twilight, the crimson tunic, with its 
gold embroidery, must have betrayed her identity, 
to eyes sharpened by the knowledge that she was 
on the field. She and her companions reached 
the bridge, only to find that the barrier there had 
been raised, making safe those on the bridge, but 
leaving beyond a terrified throng of fugitives, many 
of whom sought to escape the bristling English 
lances by jumping into the river. 


Realizing now, no doubt for the first time, her 
terrible danger, the Maid and her devoted little 
band made an attempt to cut their way through to 
the western gate. But whoever escaped, the 
enemy was determined that the Maid should not. 
l"he care with which the steel-clad figures of her 
guard had striven to guard the smaller, slighter, 
figure whose outlines were visible in the dusk, even 
if the bright tunic were not, had changed suspicion 
into certainty. There was a terrible rush, which 
her devoted guards, among whom were her brother 
Pierre, and Xaintrailles, resisted with superhuman 
strength. Again and again the charge was made ; 
one by one, her brave defenders fell about her, as 
the fierce struggle went on in the blinding dust, 
of honor against dishonor, of patriotism against 
treason, of good against evil. In that terrible 
scene, the English had no part ; the shouts to sur- 
render, and the imprecations, and foul names, that 
were hurled against her, were French, as were the 
furious faces closing in around her. At last, one of 
her assailants, some say a Burgundian knight, others, 
a Picard archer, succeeded in reaching her and drag- 
ging her from her horse, shouting as he did so : 
" Rendez-vous a moi ! Donnez votre foi ! " She 
answered : " I have given my faith to another than 
you, and I will keep my oath." She succeeded in 
regaining her feet, and renewed the struggle. But 
it was only for an instant, she was soon overpowered, 
and resistance made impossible. Her brother, 
Pierre, Xaintrailles, and her ecuyer, d'Aulon, were 
taken with her. Her captors led her back along 


the raised road, over which she had ridden in such 
high hope that afternoon, across the desolate marsh 
to Margny, while from Compiegne the tocsin 
sounded through the deepening night, telling of her 
capture, and calling to arms to rescue her. A sortie 
of her brave soldiers might have done it even then, 
if there had been a head cool enough in Compiegne 
to plan it, for there were hearts ardent enough to 
risk it. But the distance was short to Margny, the 
time for rescue brief, and before any one within the 
city had rallied sufficiently to suggest it, the Bur- 
gundians had their great, and unhoped-for prize, 
strongly guarded in their camp. 



" Scribes of England, preserve to France the noble words, the 
inspired responses, the solemn predictions, of Jeanne d'Arc : 
it is your hostile hands that build the most beautiful monu- 
ment to the glory of the Envoy of Heaven, God be blessed ! 
The judges who pronounce Jeanne's sentence have written her 
absolution before posterity, as the executioners who deliver her 
to the flames have placed the celestial palm in her hands, and 
the eternal crown on her head." 



" Gueres ne font tes argumens, 
Centre la Pucelle innocente. 
Ou qui des secrez jugemens, 
De Dieu sur elle pis ou sente." 

The wonderful news of the capture of the Maid 
spread like wild fire to the English camp, and up 
to the entrance of the valley of the Aronde, where 
Duke Philip of Burgundy lay with his forces, " caus- 
ing more delight," says a chronicler of the time, 
" than if a great battle had been gained, and France 
delivered to her enemies." There was a steady 
stream of soldiers from east and west, across the 
marsh to Margny, to behold the witch who had 
struck terror into the men of Agincourt. After 
the battle of Patay, even d'Alen^on had been petty 
enough to taunt the captive Talbot with his failure, 
so we may imagine the mocks and jeers and insults 
that these common soldiers hurled at the prisoner 
who, with the grime and dust of battle still upon 
her, and bewildered by the terribly swift accomplish- 
ment of the sad prophecy, hardly realized what 
was passing around her. 

A little later, Duke Philip himself visited her. 
There is no record of what was said at this mem- 


orable interview, for although Monstrelet was 
present, he merely tells us in his Chronicle that " the 
Duke spoke some words which I do not remember." 
"Without doubt," says Henri Martin, "the chroni- 
cler was far too good a courtier to have a memory 
for such things," for the burning words that the 
Maid addressed to the traitor with whom she was 
at last face to face, or the petty justifications that 
Philip gave for his treason. 

As for the English, the sole alloy in their joy 
was the fact that it was not they, instead of the 
Burgundians who had captured her. " But their 
hatred subdued their pride ; especially as Duke 
Philip said in his letters, that he had conquered for 
his lord King Henry." " The English chiefs," 
says one of the Maid's latest biographers, " believed 
that the ' charm,' which had suddenly changed 
triumph into disaster, was broken ; that they would 
now resume the course of conquest suspended for a 
moment by a strange accident, and that France was 
captive with Jeanne." 

" They celebrated the event with festivities, and 
would not have given her ' for London,' " says the 
poet Martial, of Paris. Couriers were sent to every 
town in France in the English-Burgundian power, 
to announce the happy event. At Paris, there 
were public rejoicings. A poor woman who said 
that " God had appeared to her clothed in a white 
tunic, and a red mantle, and had assured her that 
the Pucelle was a good Christian, and had received 
her mission from on high," was burned at the stake, 
— burned, not by English or Burgundians, but by 


French, eager to prove their satisfaction at the fall 
of the deliverer of France. 

On the other hand, the news of the Maid's cap- 
ture fell like a stunning blow on the French people 
who had believed that all their sufferings were to 
be ended by the Messenger of God. At Orleans, 
Tours and Blois, where she was venerated as a 
saint, and idolized as the heroic representative of 
the sentiment of the nation, there were public 
prayers and processions for her deliverance. At 
Tours, the people followed, with naked feet and un- 
covered head, the relics of the great apostle of the 
Gauls, chanting the Miserere. " The poor people," 
says a contemporary chronicler, " maddened with 
grief, accused the lords and captains of having be- 
trayed the holy Maid because she had upheld the 
poor, and rebuked the vices of the powerful ! '" 
But the patriot priests were evidently discouraged 
in these public petitionings, for after a little time, 
they died away into silence, silence as deep as that 
which reigned in the Court of Charles Seventh in 
regard to her. 

The Maid was kept for three or four days in the 
camp at Margny. But the vicinity of Compiegne 
suggested the possibility of rescue, so she was re- 
moved to the Castle of Beaulieu, near Cambrai, 
where she was kept closely guarded, as she persisted 
in refusing her parole. According to the rules of 
war in the Middle Ages, she was the property of 
Jean of Luxembourg, whose vassal had captured her. 
Her confinement does not seem to have been very 
severe, for the aunt and the wife of de Luxem- 


bourg, who inhabited the castle, seem to have had 
her much in their society, and to have treated her 
with great tenderness and respect. As they knew 
that one of her greatest sins in the eyes of her 
enemies, was her wearing of masculine attire, they 
begged her to change it for that of her own sex, 
and brought her the necessary outfit. Jeanne 
seems to have said nothing in regard to the matter, 
and seeing that she did not don the clothes, the 
ladies seem to have concluded that they were 
not to her taste ; so they brought her some stuff, 
that she might cut her gown to suit herself. Jeanne 
then said : " I can not give up this attire, until I get 
leave of my Lord, and it is not yet time." Her 
delicacy would not allow her to enlarge upon this 
subject even to these gentle, sympathetic ladies. 

She had been captured on the twenty-fourth of 
May, 1430 ; on the twenty-fifth, they knew the great 
news at Paris ; on the twenty-sixth, the Vicar-Gen- 
eral of the Inquisition, for the English part of France, 
wrote to the Duke of Burgundy, whose vassal Jean 
of Luxembourg was, to reclaim her, as accused of 
several errors, in order to examine her before the 
doctors of the University of Paris. The University 
also addressed a letter to the Duke, claiming the 
prisoner as suspected of magic and sacrilege. This 
message had no result, so a little later, the great 
corporation despatched a second letter to the Duke, 
reproaching him for having been so long idle in the 
matter of the Maid. It also wrote to Jean of 
Luxembourg, urging him to move in the matter " lest 
the Maid escape by the seductions and the malice 


of hell, or through the subtilities of evil persons, 
using all their resources to deliver her. Never had 
there been in the memory of man such treason com- 
mitted against the holy faith, such peril to the wel- 
fare of the Kingdom, as there would be if she were 
to escape in so damnable a manner, and without 
suitable punishment." 

Even these forcible representations failed to bring 
an answer. But the University was not to be 
thwarted in its design. It had a weapon at hand, 
and proceeded to use it. Bishop Cauchon, of 
Beauvais, who was still at Rouen, was one of its sons. 
The fact that Jeanne had been captured in his 
diocese, gave him an opportunity of at once serving 
his Alma Mater, and taking vengeance for the in- 
sult and wrong that had been inflicted on him. He 
hastened to Paris, and after having concerted his 
measures with the University, appeared at the 
camp before Compiegne, on the fourteenth of July, 
as the agent of the English government, and for- 
mally claimed the Maid in the name of Henry Sixth. 
The documents presented by Cauchon to both Bur- 
gundy and Jean of Luxembourg, clearly show the 
estimation of the Maid's power and influence, held 
by the English, and the lengths they were prepared 
to go in order to secure her. " Although," they 
declare, " this woman has no claim to be regarded 
as a prisoner of war, nevertheless, for the remunera- 
tion of those who have captured and held her, the 
King willingly gives the sum of six thousand francs, 
and assigns to Jean of Wandomme, the lieutenant of 
Jean of Luxembourg, (whose archer had captured 


her), rents to sustain his estate, to the sum of two 
or tliree thousand livres." 

As the EngHsh knew that this would not be suffi- 
cient, the documents continue : " If these persons ob- 
ject to comply with this request on the terms here set 
forth, then, although the capture of this woman is 
not equal to that of a king, a prince, or any other 
person of great estate, nevertheless, as a King, a 
Dauphin, or any other Prince, is entitled, by right, 
usage, and custom of France, to compel the captors 
to accept the sum of ten thousand francs for their 
prisoner, the said Bishop requires the prisoner to be 
delivered to him, on giving surety for the sum of ten 
thousand francs." 

This summons remained for some time unan- 
swered. Jean of Luxembourg belonged to an 
illustrious house which had given kings to Bohemia, 
and to Hungary, and emperors to Germany, but his 
na±ure was as mean as his descent was illustrious, 
and the cadet of an impoverished house, he looked 
upon the capture of the Maid merely as a chance 
by which to mend his fallen fortunes. His silence 
was merely to give the King of France time to 
bid for the prisoner ; if the sum he named were 
higher than that offered by the English, Jean of 
Luxembourg was quite ready to sacrifice their in- 
terests. But in his speculations as to the extent of 
the royal gratitude, Luxembourg was calculating on 
something that had no existence ; the royal ingrate 
fell below even his enemies' estimate of him ; and 
never lifted a finger to save her who had dared and 
done the impossible for him. 


The only voice raised in Jeanne's behalf was that 
of a woman, the aunt of the Sire de Luxembourg. 
This holy and venerable woman's influence stayed 
even the miserable nature of her soulless nephew^ 
but she died, and his wife's influence was not suf- 
ficient to hold him to the right. The English, know- 
ing his neediness, steadied his wavering purpose with 
a bribe, and Luxembourg, throwing honor to the 
winds, assumed the character of a victim of destiny, 
and inscribed on his escutcheon, " No one is held to 
the impossible " 

While these negotiations were proceeding, the 
imprisoned Maid, much more occupied with the 
welfare of others than with her own fate, was 
thinking about the people of Compiegne. The 
tower in which she was confined, commanded a vast 
expanse of Picardy, so was probably fifty or sixty 
feet in height. To leap from it was to risk one's life. 
The Voices bade her " be resigned ; " reminded her 
" that it was necessary to suffer, and to suffer with res- 
ignation." But Jeanne, though resigned to her own 
sufferings, could not keep her thoughts from dwell- 
ing on the poor people of Compiegne. " Would God 
allow them to perish who had been, and still were, 
so loyal to their King ? " 

The thought of such a prospect for them weighed 
upon her so terribly, that she disobeyed, for the 
first time, her Voices, and leaped from the window 
of the tower onto the rampart below. When she 
was picked up she was unconscious, and it was 
thought at first, that she was dead. After some 
time, she regained her senses, but she lay for two 


days unable either to eat or drink. St. Catharine 
appeared to her and gently reproached her for her 
rashness, and bade her ask pardon of it from God. 
Then she consoled the lonely, unhappy child, bid- 
ding her take courage, that she would be cured, and 
that Compiegne would obtain succor before the 
Saint Martin. In a few days, Jeanne was well, and 
before the feast of Saint Martin, Compiegne was 

This new victory, which the spirit and the tactics 
of Jeanne so largely contributed to, added to the 
hatred of the English for her. The negotiations 
with Luxembourg were speedily brought to a con- 
clusion, and about the fifteenth of November, 
Jeanne was conveyed from the Chateau of Beau- 
revoir, to the city of Arras, where English ofificers, 
representing the Duke of Bedford, Regent of 
France, were awaiting her. To them the Maid of 
Orleans was delivered in the name of Henry Sixth, 
in exchange for the sum of ten thousand francs, 
according to the feudal custom invoked by the 
Bishop of Beauvais, which gave the King a right to 
ransom a prince or any general prisoner, on payment 
of such a sum. But according to feudal usage, 
Jeanne should have been ransomed and set at liberty 
for this sum ; whereas it was used to buy her in 
order to put her to death. 

From Arras, Jeanne was taken to Crotoy , a strong 
fortress in Picardy, at the mouth of the Somme, 
where she was kept until the final preparations had 
been made for her trial. Even here, her captivity 
does not seem to have been very rigorous. She 


was allowed to go to mass, and the chancellor of 
the Cathedral of Amiens, who was staying in the 
castle, heard her confession and gave her com- 
munion. The ladies of Abbeville were admitted to 
see her : Jeanne was deeply affected by the respect 
and sympathy shown her by these high-born dames, 
in the very centre of English power, and embraced 
them affectionately when they were departing, say- 
ing" A Dieu." All through her life Jeanne had at 
least the satisfaction of having the commendation 
so dear to a good woman's heart, of the best and 
noblest of her sex. 



" All that remained to do, was to suffer." 

The infamy, so long in negotiation, had at length 
been accomplished ; the " prisoner of war," not ran- 
somed, but sold, had been handed over to her 
bitterest enemies, to be tried by the very judge 
that had bargained about her price. The English 
had never been in any doubt as to what they 
would do with her after they obtained her ; her 
death had been decided upon from the first. It 
was true, the rules of war in the Middle Ages gave 
the captor power to accept ransom for his prisoner, 
to set him at liberty, or to put him to death, as he 
chose, but it did not give him power to sell his 
captive to his enemies. To do so was to sink to 
the level of Pagans or Saracens, yet this was what 
was done with Jeanne d'Arc. This first great in- 
justice accomplished, the only question was how 
to compass her death. No civil tribunal could con- 
demn a soldier for fighting for his country. It was 
true, she might be put to death in private, as so 
many prisoners whom it was inconvenient to bring 
to trial, were, in those times, but that would not 
serve the purpose. In the first place, it would 
have been maintained by those whose policy it was 


to do SO, that Jeanne was not dead at all. Even as it 
was, several years after Jeanne had been publicly 
burned to death, a young woman appeared, about 
the age that Jeanne would have been if she had 
lived, and declared that she was the Maid of Orleans, 
who had miraculously escaped from prison. She 
joined the army, and excited great enthusiasm 
among the people, though devout believers in 
Jeanne, were scandalized by her life, which was the 
very opposite of the austere, sanctified life which 
the Maid had lead. After a varied career in France 
and Italy, during which she married a gentleman of 
high rank, the Dame des Ardoises was summoned 
to an interview with Charles Seventh. He received 
her with great honor, and asked her to prove that 
she was Jeanne d'Arc, by telling him the secret 
which she had revealed to him. The " lady " col- 
lapsed, and no doubt, in a response to a hint from 
the government, retired into obscurity. 

The secret death of the Maid therefore, would 
not serve the end the English had in view. There 
was only one way to destroy the moral influence of 
her work upon the nations of Christendom, and free 
the armies of England from the dread of her power. 
She must be condemned as an envoy of Satan, and 
made to suffer a shameful, public, death. Only an 
ecclesiastical court could so condemn her, and an 
ecclesiastical court was promptly furnished by the 
University of Paris, which, as we have seen, antici- 
pated even the English, in its eagerness to vindicate 
its course by branding Jeanne and her works as 

192 ^ THE MARTYR. 

The University and the English, thus united in 
a determination to destroy Jeanne, found a willing 
instrument for their iniquitous work in the ejected 
and vengeful Cauchon. This man was one of those 
who were the misfortune of the Church in the 
days when her alliance with the State made her 
rich in temporal goods ; who, without the slight, 
est vocation to the sacerdotal office, entered the 
fold of her priesthood as the only path to wealth 
and power that was open to men who were not of 
noble birth. He was born at Rheims, according to 
some writers, the son of a wine-seller, though 
Anselme, the French genealogist, makes him the 
son of Master Remi Cauchon, a licentiate of laws, 
who was ennobled in 1393, probably owing to the 
efforts of his already influential and aspiring son. 
The latter was educated at the University of Paris, 
and in 1403, enjoyed the ephemeral honor of its 
rectorship. After applying himself to the study of 
Canon Law, the "solemn clerk," as the Burgundian 
Chroniclers call him, took the degree of licentiate, 
and taught for some time this branch of ecclesiasti- 
cal science. His colleagues must have recognized 
some superiority in him, for, in 1407, and again in 
1409, he was deputed to accompany Gerson to Italy, 
in relation to the Great Schism. Cauchon was a 
politician, and used all his prerogatives to further 
his political views, or what is the equivalent with a 
politician, his own interests. He cast in his lot with 
the Burgundians, and too often employed the re- 
nown he had attained as a teacher of Law, to 
satisfy the violence of his opinions. He was a 


prominent figure during the Cabochien troubles of 
1412, and 1413, as may be seen from the fact that 
he was one of the forty persons proscribed by the 
Armagnacs on their return to power. Cauchon 
fled to the Court of John the Fearless, who made 
him his almoner. He returned to Paris with Bur- 
gundy, in the midst of the sanguinary orgies of the 
Cabochiens. The Duke constituted him the judge 
of the Armagnac priests, and while he was fulfilling 
this office, made him one of the Masters of Requests 
to the King. In 1420, Cauchon was one of the 
seven delegates chosen by the University of Paris 
to represent it at the negotiation of the infamous 
Treaty of Troyes, and received as recompense for 
his services in that matter, the bishopric of Beau- 
vais. He continued to serve the cause of the Eng- 
lish with all his power, and rose higher and higher 
in their confidence. To serve the English was to 
earn the approval of the University, and in 1422, 
that corporation chose him as apostolic conservator 
of its privileges. This was a most important office, 
and one that by its very nature gave its holder im^ 
mense authority and influence in the University. 

In the midst of all this honor and success, the 
Maid appeared, stamping with her miracles the' seal 
of divine reprobation on the cause he had so stren- 
uously upheld, and almost before he had time to 
realize his danger, he found his place and state 
snatched from him, and himself again a suppliant at 
the doors of the great. As he made his suit, and 
endured again, all the repulses and evasions, and 
setting aside of his. request for more pressing mat- 


ters, liis bitterness grew against her who had caused 
his overthrow, and when she had been delivered into 
the hands of his masters, he eagerly claimed the 
right of judging her cause as a prisoner captured 
in his diocese. 

He asked a high price for his work ; nothing less 
than the Archeopiscopal See of Rouen, the second 
city in France. It is some satisfaction to know that 
he did not obtain it ; that the place, sanctified by 
Jeanne's sufferings and death, was not permitted to 
become the scene of his pomp and power. 

A discussion now rose as to where the Maid's 
trial should be held. The University was for Paris. 
That city was hostile to the Maid, so much so, that 
there had been threats made there to throw her 
into the Seine, if she escaped the hands of justice. 
Moreover, Paris was the seat of the University's 
power, and its verdict, delivered amid scenes hal- 
lowed by antiquity, and rendered venerable by a long 
succession of saints and sages, would have greater 
force and majesty than if given elsewhere. The 
English, on the other hand, preferred Rouen, the 
centre of their power in France. Paris was too un- 
certain in its character to be trusted. Just then it 
might be hostile to the Maid, but who could assure 
them that when the Parisians saw her, and heard her 
plead her cause, their long-slumbering patriotism 
might not awake and find vent in a popular dan 
that would snatch their victim from them ? Bed- 
ford decided that the trial should be held at Rouen, 
and the University, so arrogant in its dealings with 
its own Kings, meekly bowed to his decision. That 


pale little phantom of royalty, Henry Sixth, was 
then at Rouen with his great-uncle, the Cardinal of 
Winchester, one of the main props of the House of 
Lancaster, and on the third of January, I43i,an or- 
dinance was issued, in which he was made to de- 
clare that in compliance with the request of the 
Bishop of Beauvais, and the exhortation of " his 
dear daughter," the University of Paris, he com- 
manded the accused to be conducted to the Bishop 
for trial. The concluding words of this document 
show the full hideousness of the plot against her. 
" In any case," it reads, " it is our intention to have 
again, and to take back before ourselves the said 
Jeanne, if so it should be that she be not convicted 
or attainted in the aforesaid matters, or in any other 
thing touching or regarding our said faith." That 
is, if the expert dialectical energy of that vast array 
of schoolmen, who were to be her judges, should fail 
in extorting some admission from an illiterate 
peasant girl that could be tortured into heresy, she 
was not to go free, but to be returned to her dun- 
geon, to die by a secret and violent death. 

A few days later, the Maid was brought from 
Crotoy to Rouen. Of course she was strongly 
guarded, but one is conscious of an extra heart-beat, 
at the thought that she was now, for the last time, 
within the possibility of rescue. Where were Du- 
nois. La Hire, d'Alen§on and the other brave hearts, 
in whose company she had so often ridden down 
the enemies of France? No doubt this was the 
question she must have asked herself as she passed 
on that last earthly journey, through the desolate 


wintry land, scanning with her trained eyes, every 
good position for an ambush, or an attack, hoping 
to hear the cry of " God and St. Denis," ring out, 
and to see the charge of her old companions in arms. 
The attempt might, probably would, have been un- 
successful, but it would at least have redeemed the 
French from the charge of utter indifference to her 

On her arrival at Rouen, the prisoner was lodged 
in the Castle. This citadel, which had been built 
by Philip Augustus in 1205, after he had taken 
Normandy from John Lackland, stood near the 
rear gate of the city, and commanded a view of a 
wide expanse of country. 

The Maid was placed in a small chamber, into 
which the light scarcely penetrated, whose only 
furniture consisted of a wretched bed. In the 
middle of the room stood a great iron post, with 
rings. Some writers have declared that Jeanne 
was placed in an iron cage, in this dungeon, thus 
taking from the Cardinal La Balue, the distinction 
of having invented the " fiUettes de roi," as they 
were called, and in one of which the luckless states- 
man passed a good portion of his life, as a pen- 
alty for having intrigued against his royal master, 
Louis Eleventh. But as the best authorities have 
pronounced against the cage, we will let it go. 
There were so many other horrors that one need not 
be insistent in regard it. In fact, one would think 
that Jeanne would have preferred the cage when one 
reads that during the day, she was chained by the 
neck, the feet and the hands ; and that at night, 


another chain was placed around her body and 
fastened to the post in the centre of the room. 
Five English soldiers were detailed to guard her ; 
three of whom remained in the room day and night. 
They had orders not to allow any one to enter 
without an express authorization from the Bishop 
or the Promoter. On the principle of humanityj 
both civil and ecclesiastical law ordained that 
women, whether imprisoned for criminal or civil 
offences, should not be guarded by men. They were 
to be placed either in a religious house, or a convent, 
or in the care of respectable women. There were 
ecclesiastical prisons in Rouen, and Jeanne, accused 
of heresy, was entitled to their shelter ; but the 
English were so fearful of their prey escaping them, 
that they outraged law, and right, and decency, by 
placing a young girl in a strong private prison, 
used only for prisoners of war, under the guard of 
common soldiers. So cruelly did she suffer in mind 
and body, from her surroundings, and the weight of 
her chains, that she preferred death to a prolong- 
ation of her tortures. 

There seems to have been as much curiosity in 
Rouen to see her, as there had been everywhere else. 
All those who had influence enough to gain per- 
mission to enter her dungeon flocked thither to be- 
hold " the witch " as they called her. Among them 
was the Sire de Luxembourg, in no way ashamed 
to meet the gaze of the woman he had sold, but 
happy in the enjoyment of the reward of his infamy. 
He even went so far as to crack a jest with his 
prisoner, a jest quite in keeping with his character. 


" I have come to buy you," he cried merrily, " if you 
will promise never more to bear arms against the 
English." This exquisite joke he uttered again and 
again, until at length, Jeanne wearily answered, " I 
know you mock me by your words ; you have 
neither the will nor the power to ransom me." He 
insisted that he had, until at last, after declaring 
that he had not, Jeanne added, " I know well that 
the EngHsh will put me to death, believing that 
after I am dead, they will gain the Kingdom of 
France, but even if there were one hundred thou- 
sand more Goddens, than there are now, they 
Would not gain it." 

This prophetic declaration so infuriated an Eng- 
lish lord who was present that he drew his dagger 
and ruslied on the chained and defenceless prisoner, 
and but for Warwick, would have killed her. This 
incident shows that even belted knights were far 
from being always faithful to the ideal of chivalry. 

To add to all her other tortures, Jeanne was de- 
prived of all that had hitherto sustained her, mass, 
confession and communion. But she was subjected 
to worse than this ; to something so terrible that, 
remembering the official character of the men who 
did it, one sickens at having to record it. Her 
enemies did not scruple to take advantage of the 
holiest needs and most sacred aspirations of the hu- 
man heart, in order to compass their ends. One 
night, Nicholas Loyseleur, a doctor of the Univer- 
sity of Paris, and a canon of Rouen, appeared in 
Jeanne's cell, disguised as a cobbler. The guards 
retired, as if bribed, and he told her that he was a 


patriot priest, from her beloved native Lorraine, 
who had run the terrible risk involved in visiting 
her, in order to counsel her how to act in her 
approaching trial. Jeanne implored him to hear 
her confession first, and he consented. The Maid 
confessed, but not to Loyseleur alone. In the wall, 
there was an aperture known as a Judas, and here 
the sacrilegious Cauchon was stationed, listening 
to the secrets of Jeanne's soul. The Judas has 
played its own mean part in French history, but 
never before nor since, was it put to so unspeakably 
base a use as on that night in Jeanne d'Arc's dun- 
geon ! 

On Tuesday, the ninth of January, Cauchon 
convoked a meeting of the judges in the House of 
of the King's Council. We now hear for the first 
time the names of those who were to be most 
actively associated with him in his infamous work ; 
Jean d'Estivet, Canon of Bayeux and Beauvais, 
who had been compelled, like the Bishop, to flee 
before the victorious army of the Maid, and who, 
glad of this opportunity to requite her for her 
work, performed his ofifice with all the bitterness 
and cruelty of a vindictive nature ; Jean Lemaitre, 
of the Dominicans, who represented the Inquisi- 
tion, a man of little energy or capacity, whom the 
command of the Grand Inquisitor constrained to 
work which his conscience forbade; Nicholas Loy- 
seleur, memorable for his incredible baseness, arid 
his unavailing remorse ; Jean de la Fontaine, Coun- 
sellor and Commissary; Jean Massieu, rural dean, 
charged with the execution of the decrees of the 


tribunal. Of the great number of theologians, and 
masters in art, and doctors from the University ot 
Paris, who helped to make up the court, Jacques 
Erard, Nicholas Midi and Thomas de Courcelles, 
distinguished themselves by their zeal. 

Jean Beaupere, selected by Cauchon to question 
the accused, during the first sessions, was obliged 
to leave Rouen two days before Jeanne's death, 
in order to reach the Council of Bale, where he 
played an important part in helping to bring about 
the conflict between Eugenius IV, and that as- 
sembly. Thomas Courcelles distinguished himself 
even more in the Council, and is termed by his- 
torians the principal framer of the decrees of Bale. 
Jacques Erard, Nicholas Midi, and Jacques de 
la Touraine, were equally hostile to the Holy 
See, equally ardent in their upholding of "the 
liberties of the Gallican church." All were sons 
of the University and proud of the distinction ; 
not with that honest pride in their Alma Mater 
which makes the love of it come next to that of 
God and country in a man's heart, but with that 
overweening confidence in its wisdom, which made 
them arrogate to it the infallibility which they de- 
nied to the Papacy. There is the clearest docu- 
mentary evidence that never, for a single instant, 
had the University of Paris admitted even the pos- 
sibility of Jeanne being sent by God. Its members 
therefore came to Rouen, determined to redeem 
the great corporation from the momentary eclipse 
of power and prestige which Jeanne had caused 
it, by condemning her as an emissary of Satan. 


The peculiar horror which attaches itself to this 
pitiless Court is that it sinned against the light, its 
members being all theologians, to whom the laws of 
the Church were as familiar as the alphabet to edu- 
cated laymen. 

The first meeting was only preliminary. On the 
following Saturday, Cauchon convoked a second 
meeting, at the house of Jean Rude, Canon of 
Rouen, where he lodged, when he read to the judges 
the information gathered up in regard to the Maid, 
in order that it might be arranged in articles, so as 
to expedite matters. 

To the credit of human nature, be it said, even in 
this assembly, there were men whose spirits revolted 
against the horrible injustice of the proceedings. 
A priest named Lohier, rose and told Cauchon to his 
face, that the trial was worth nothing, because the 
court was not acting as a free body, but under pres- 
sure of the English power. Such fury was aroused 
by his words, that he was obliged to conceal him- 
self, and flee from the city. Some members of the 
Chapter of Rouen having maintained that in all 
justice, the Act of Accusation should be read in a 
language that the prisoner could understand, they 
were imprisoned, as dangerous men seeking to defeat 
the ends of justice. Others took exception to the fact 
that Jeanne had not been placed in a prison of the 
church, but Cauchon silenced these with menaces. 
Undeterred by these examples, another brave priest, 
Nicholas de Houppeville, arose, and declared that 
the process was not legal, because the Bishop was 
of a party hostile to the Maid, and because he was 


judging a case already judged by his Metropolitan, 
tlie Archbishop of Rheims. Cauchon, wild with 
rage, excluded him from the court, and cited him 
before him. De Houppeville refused to appear, 
declaring that the Chapter of Rouen alone had 
power to summon him. This body cited him ac- 
cordingly, and when he presented himself before it, 
by the order of him whose competence to judge him, 
he had denied, he was thrown into a dungeon within 
the same huge fortress that held Jeanne d'Arc. 

Several weeks were now devoted by d'Estivet to 
gathering evidence against the accused. The Eng- 
lish government spared neither trouble nor expense ; 
messengers, well supplied with golden means of 
obtaining information, were sent to every locality 
that Jeanne had passed any time in, to seek for in- 
formation concerning her life and conduct. Those 
sent to Domremy and Vaucouleurs, brought back 
such overwhelming testimony in the accused's favor, 
that d'Estivet refused to pay them for their work. 

Meanwhile, the other assessors were busy prepar- 
ing for their victim an immense number of questions, 
apparently very simple, but calculated to lure any 
one to whom the paths of theology were untrodden 
ways, into terrible snares. All was now ready for 
the forensic struggle between the peasant girl 
and the most celebrated doctors of the age, united 
in the sinister determination to destroy the ac- 

On the twentieth of February, Jean Massieu 
entered Jeanne's dungeon and read to her a citation 
to appear before the Court at eight o'clock the 


following morning. She answered that she would 
willingly do so, but requested that an equal number 
of ecclesiastics of the party of France be associated 
with those of the English-Burgundian party that 
were to try her. This request, founded on the 
strictest equity, was ignored. There was to be no 
earthly help for their victim ; the superiority which 
she was to show, the wisdom which was to dictate 
answers that drew wonder and admiration from even 
the judges themselves, were to come from God 
alone, and give to a wondering, waiting, world, the 
final proof of the divinity of the Maid's mission. 



" I do believe 
Induc'd by potent circumstances, that, 
You are mine enemy ; and make my challenge, 
You shall not be my judge ! " 

On the twenty-first of February, the trial of 
Jeanne began. It was held in the chapel of the 
archiepiscopal palace at Rouen. Bishop Cau- 
chon, a man whom ambition had already made false 
to his country, and was now to make false to his 
God, presided, assisted by forty-one assessors. 
When all had taken their places, it was ordered 
that the prisoner be brought in. A thrill of 
curiosity must have run through the assembly in 
the moments that intervened before her coming, to 
behold her who had turned the men of Agincourt 
into cowards, and checked England in her career of 
conquest. At length the heavy footsteps of the 
guards, and the clanking of chains, were heard, and 
in a few moments, a slight young figure in a page's 
costume of black woolen stuff, moving slowly 
under the weight of heavy chains, and pale, and thin, 
from darkness and imprisonment, but with that 

* The facts of the trial of Jeanne d'Arc have been taken from 
the monumental work of the learned French Jesuit, Pere d'Ay- 
noles ; La Pucdle Devant L' Eglise De Son Temps. 


bright, dauntless look, that nameless something in 
her appearance and bearing that had caused her 
to be described as "something divine," appeared 
before them. 

No doubt, as they saw her thus, whose sole 
crime it was, to have striven for the liberty of their 
common country, which they had betrayed, the 
better natures of some of them awoke, and they 
realized that the bitterest penalty of their treason 
would be the part which fear or ambition would 
force them to take in her condemnation. 

But, for the most part, the eyes that met hers 
were cold and unpitying. This did not disturb her, 
however ; she expected neither grace nor pity from 
traitors, and knew from the first that her doom was 

The proceedings began with an admonition from 
the Bishop to the prisoner, in which he urged her 
to answer truthfully the questions that would be 
put to her, in order to shorten the trial, and dis- 
charge her conscience. He finished by ordering her 
to take an oath to this effect, with her hand on the 
holy Gospels. He ceased, and then for the first 
time, the voice of Jeanne d'Arc was heard in that 
hostile court. 

" I do not know what you wish to question me 
about ; " she answered, " perhaps you may ask me 
things that I must not tell you." And as they still 
insisted on her taking the oath, she went on : " In 
regard to my mother and father, and what I have 
done in France, I will tell you willingly ; but you 
can ask me other things that I may not tell you. 


As for the revelations that have been made to me 
by God, I have told them to none save Charles, my 
King, and I will not reveal them to you, even though 
you should cut off my head, because I have had 
them through vision and secret counsel, and am 
forbidden to reveal them." 

This point was finally settled by Jeanne swearing 
on her knees, with her hands on the holy books, to 
tell what was required, under the reservation that 
she had made. 

The examination then commenced with a series 
of questions in regard to her Christian name, family 
name, and surname. She answered that at home 
they had called her Jeannette, but since her coming 
info France, she had been called Jeanne. As for 
her surname, she modestly said, she knew nothing 
of it. 

The Bishop bade her recite her Pater. " Hear 
my confession," she answered, " and I will recite it 

Required to swear that she would not try to es- 
cape, she refused to do so. " If ever I escape, none 
shall reproach me for having broken or violated my 
faith," she added. 

She complained of the weight and number of her 
chains, but the Bishop answered : " You have tried 
several times to escape from prison, and it is in order 
to prevent this, that it has been ordered to put you 
in irons." 

" It is true," Jeanne answered : " I have sought 
to escape, and would do so again if I could." And 
then she added, touchingly, " Is that not the right 
of every prisoner? " 


After this brief examination, the prisoner was 
remanded to prison, and handed over to the guard- 
ianship of Jean Gris, an ecuyer in the service of 
Henry Sixth, Jean Bernoist, and William Talbot, 
who with thejr hands in those of the Bishop, took 
an oath to guard her faithfully. 

The second session of the Court took place the 
following day, in the Chamber of Ornament, thus 
called because in it were held the fetes and formal 
receptions that took place at the Castle. After 
another effort on the part of the Court to make 
Jeanne take an unqualified oath, and an unshaken 
refusal on her part to do so, Beaupere, professor of 
theology, took up the questioning, which covered 
her sojourn at Neufchateau, her Voices, her de- 
parture from Domremy, and her meeting with the 
King, at Chinon. To all of the interrogations, she 
answered with clearness ; if the questions were in- 
discreet, she said firmly : " Pass on ; " or, " That is 
not in the process." 

At the third session, which took place on Sat- 
urday, the twenty-fourth, in the presence of sixty- 
one judges, the argument in regard to the oath was 

" You could ask me many things that I may not 
tell you, and if you were to force me to reveal what 
I have sworn to keep secret, I would perjure my- 
self, and that you ought not to wish. I warn you, 
since you call yourself my judge, you take upon 
yourself a great responsibility in charging me on 
this point." 

Beaupere then took up the questioning which 


turned on her revelations, and the orders given her 
by the saints. 

" What have they said to you ? " he asked. 
"Answer boldly; God will aid thee." Turning 
suddenly to the Bishop, she added : 'VYou say that 
you are my judge ; be careful what you do ; for 
truly, I am sent by God, and you put yourself in 
great danger." 

After some further questioning, Beaupere asked 
her : " Do you know whether you are in the grace 
of God or not? " 

The learned assembly no doubt waited with 
breathless interest to see whether the peasant giri 
would destroy herself on Scylla or on Charybdis. 
But in clear, sweet tones came back the meek and 
reverent a.nsAver : 

" If I am, may God keep me in it. If I am not, 
may He put me in it ! I would be the most un- 
happy of all in the world, if I knew that I were not 
in the grace of God ! " 

At this answer, the judges were stupefied, and 
according to the clerk, Boisguillaume, broke on the 

The fourth interrogatory was again directed by 
Beaupere to the subject of the Voices. She 
answered that they were those of Saint Catharine, 
Saint Margaret, and Saint Michael. " I have leave 
from Our Lord to tell you that. If you doubt it, 
send to Poitiers, where I was examined before." 
The examiner then reverted to her interview with 
the king, the sword of Fierbois, her standard, and 
the paintings on it. 


In the three sessions of February twenty-second, 
twenty-third, and twenty-fourth, the superiority of 
the Maid showed itself with so much brilliancy, 
that Beaupere found his work too much for him, 
and gave it up to become simply an assessor. 

At the Rehabilitation, he declared that she was 
extremely subtle, with the subtlety peculiar to 

At the fifth session, replying to questions on the 
subject of menaces contained in her summons to 
the English to depart, she said : " Before seven 
years the English shall meet a greater check than 
they did at Orleans ; they shall lose all France." 

" How know you that ? " 

" I know it well by a revelation that has been 
made me. It will happen before seven years, 
and I am grieved that it should be so long. I know 
it by revelation, as clearly as that you are before 
me at this moment." Her prophecy was accom- 
plished ; in 1436, Paris opened its gates to Charles 

On the third of March, Cauchon tried to question 
her in regard to her visions, but she refused to 
tell anything more in regard to them. He then 
passed on to the masculine costume, but could ex- 
tort no reply save her repeated assurance that in 
assuming it, and retaining it, she was serving and 
obeying her sovereign Lord. 

Her leap from the tower of Beaurevoir was then 
taken up. 

" Did not you say that you would rather die 
than fall into the hands of the English ? " 


** I said that I would rather render my soul to 
God than fall into the hands of the English." 

" Were not you so angered at what had happened, 
as to blaspheme the name of God ? " 

" I have never blasphemed against God, nor the 
saints, and I am not accustomed to swear." 

Cauchon was so completely routed by the wise 
responses of the Maid, that he thought it prudent 
at this point to abandon the public interrogatories, 
and decided that the remaining ones should take 
place in presence of two or three assessors only. 
He took the precaution, however, of forbidding the 
others to quit Rouen, on any pretext, whatever, 
without permission, before the conclusion of the 

The next day, Sunday, the fourth of March, and 
for five days following, the prisoner was left in 
peace, for Cauchon devoted them to conferring with 
his chosen advisers, on the result of the examina- 
tions. They came to the conclusion that several 
points had not been sufficiently answered, and 
would bear further examination. This task was 
delegated to Jean de la Fontaine, master-in-arts, 
licentiate in Canon Law. Though the ally and 
chosen confidant of Cauchon, he was a man of far 
gentler temperament, and, as subsequent events 
show, not utterly devoid of conscience or of pity. 
On the tenth of March, he entered her dungeon, 
accompanied only by two other assessors, and three 
witnesses, to seek elucidation on the points in 
question. His kindly manner seems to have had, 
as Cauchon hoped it would, the effect of making 
Jeanne less guarded in her replies. 


" Your Voices told you at Melun, did they not, 
that you would be captured ? " 

" Yes, every day, for several days. And I asked 
them when I would be captured, that I might die 
soon, without long suffering in prison. They 
answered : ' Bear all patiently ; it is necessary 
that these things be.' " 

" When you left your parents, did you not be- 
lieve you were committing a sin ? " 

" When God commanded, it was necessary to 
obey," and then, with that sublime spirit of utter 
obedience to God that reveals the saint, she added : 
*' At his command, I would have left one hundred 
fathers and mothers, even though I had been a 
King's daughter." 

On the thirteenth of March, the regular inter- 
rogatories were resumed in presence of Cauchon, 
and the Inquisitor, Lemaitre, his associate judge. 
De la Fontaine remained interrogator. Up to this 
time, they had made little progress in their work, 
but a subject was now taken up that promised rich 
results. It was the sign given by Jeanne to the 
King. In spite of her solemn refusal to reveal the 
communications made to her by her Voices, they 
persisted in harking back to the one subject on 
which they could possibly hope to draw from her 
some admissions that might be used to her destruc- 
tion. Perceiving this, she took refuge in an alle- 
gory, and told them that the sign given to the King 
was a rich gold crown, brought to him by an 
angel, who told him that he should have the king- 
dom of France with the aid of God, and the Maid's 


By the angel Jeanne indicated herself, and by 
the gold crown, that which was set upon the King's 
head at his coronation. During the whole inter- 
rogatory on this subject, she mingled the scene at 
Chinon and that at Rheims, so as to confuse her 

" And why was it that the King was to obtain 
his crown by thy labor more than that of another ? " 
she was asked. 

" Because it pleased God to act thus, through a 
simple Maid, in order to humble the enemies of 

The next interrogatory took place in Jeanne's 
dungeon, when nearly the same ground was gone 

The questions put to her, deposed the 
Dominican, Isambard de la Pierre, at the Rehabilita- 
tion, were too difficult, captious, and subtle, so 
much so that even the high ecclesiastics, and well- 
lettered men who were present would have found it 
difficult to reply to them. Yet the Maid, alone, and 
without the slightest human aid, gives to them 
astonishing responses, clear, decisive, going straight 
to the point, throwing the light of good sense on 
captious questions, and touching as with the spear 
of Ithuriel those clothed in fraud and deceit. There 
was neither pity nor sympathy for her. When the 
judges rested, it was out of consideration for them- 
selves, never for the forlorn young prisoner, whose 
only change from a dark and dreary dungeon, was 
the court and their wearing interrogatories. Some 
days, after she had been subjected to these for three 

THE TRIAL. 21 3 

or four hours in the morning, the court held another 
session in the afternoon. And a session always 
meant the same mental strain for the prisoner. 
There were no witnesses to be heard, no pleading 
by counsel, nothing that would afford her intervals 
of rest. It was all question and answer, questions 
often by several at once, so that Jeanne had to 
beg them to speak one after the other ; answers 
always by one — and that one, a friendless, ignorant, 
peasant, child whom they were hunting to death. 

Other witnesses at her Rehabilitation bore testi- 
mony to her simplicity, her good sense, her presence 
of mind, and her good memory. They questioned 
her one day about something which she had replied 
to, eight days before. 

" I have already answered that question,*' she 
answered. Boisguillaume, the clerk, said it was not 
so ; some of his assistants supported Jeanne's state- 
ment. The record of the interrogatory, therefore, 
in which Jeanne declared she had answered, was 
read, and it was found that she was right. 

It may have been that many present, felt compas- 
sion for the friendless prisoner, but it was useless to 
express it, or even to demand justice for her. When 
a certain question was put to Jeanne, one of the 
assessors, Jean de Chatillon, declared that the ac- 
cused was not obliged to respond to it. Great ex- 
citement followed this bold remark, but Chatillon 
was not to be browbeaten. " I must satisfy my con- 
science," he resolutely declared. After the ses- 
sion was over, he received word that he need not 
appear in Court till he was sent for. Sometimes, 


however, her hearers could not repress their in- 
voluntary admiration of the precision and nicety of 
her replies, and there would be cries of *' Well 
answered, Jeanne! " from the judges, and a mur- 
mur of admiration from the English who were 

An over zealous judge, Jacques de la Touraine, 
anxiously inquired if she had been in any place 
where the English were killed. 

" In the name of God," replied the Warrior 
Maid, " but you speak gently ! Why do not the 
English depart from France, and go to their own 
country?" An English lord, who was present, could 
not restrain his admiration at this reply. " Truly, 
a brave woman," he cried : " Why is she not 
English? " 

Even across the centuries, the responses of the 
Maid of France come to us with a living force. 
What effect then, must they have had upon the hos- 
tile English, and renegade French, who heard them 
uttered in her clear ringing tones I The public 
sessions of the court seem, at this time, to have be- 
come displeasing to Cauchon, probably because the 
prisoner was proving too strong for the assembly, 
and exciting popular sympathy. The next inter- 
rogatories took place in Jeanne's dungeon. 

During her imprisonment, her visions had not 
ceased : almost every day the celestial radiance had 
illumined the dreary dungeon, and her Voices had 
spoken with her and consoled her. They had told 
her of her martyrdom, but seem to have concealed 
its nature from her, for she told de la Fontaine at 


the next interrogatory, that she was " to be delivered 
by a great victory. My Voices tell me," she contin- 
ued, " to bear all patiently, and not to grieve at my 
martyrdom, because I shall come, finally, into the 
kingdom of Paradise. They have told me that 
simply and absolutely, and without fail. What 
I understand as my martyrdom, is the pain 
and adversity that I suffer in prison ; I know 
not if I shall have more to suffer, but in regard to 
that, I submit myself to God." 

In the afternoon of the same day, de la Fontaine, 
after repeating to her that she had attacked Paris 
on a feast-day, that she had sprung from the tower 
of Beaurevoir, that she had worn man's attire, and 
that she had consented to the death of Franquet 
d'Arras, asked her if she did not think that she had 
committed mortal sin in doing these things. 

"As for the attack on Paris/' she answered, " I 
do not believe that in making it, I committed a 
mortal sin, but if I did, it is for God to know it, and 
the priest in confession. As for my leap from the 
tower of Beaurevoir, I did not do it in despair, 
but in the hope of saving myself, and going to the 
succor of those in peril. After my fall, I confessed, 
and asked pardon of God for doing it. He has 
pardoned me. I know I did wrong ; but Saint Cath- 
arine has told me that He has pardoned me." 

" Did you do penance?" 

"I did; my penance came in great part from 
the injury I did myself in falling. You ask 
me, if I believe I committed mortal sin in leap- 
ing ? I do not know, but I submit the matter 


to God. As for my masculine dress, since I wear 
it at the command of God, I believe it is right ; 
as soon as He gives me leave, I will change it." 

More and more clearly they saw that the only 
possible subject on which they might extort any- 
thing from her that would give a shadow of justifi- 
cation to their condemnation of her, was that of her 
Voices. They therefore approached it in a new 
way, and opened up a long argument which used up 
the sessions for many weary days. 

On March fifteenth, de la Fontaine began by 
asking her whether, if she had sinned in anything 
against the Faith, she would submit to the judg- 
ment of the Church. 

" Let my answers be seen and read by clerks 
(ecclesiastics of the French party in France, whom 
she wished to have associated with those of the 
English-Burgundian party in judging her cause) and 
let them tell me if there is anything in them against 
the Christian Faith, which Our Lord has commanded. 
If there is, I will not maintain it, and I will grieve 
to have said it." She added, "My acts and words 
are in the hands of God ; I submit in all things to 
Him. I declare to you that I would say or do 
nothing against the Christian faith ; if it can be 
shown that I have said or done anything against it, 
I will not maintain it." 

" What could be more Catholic than this ? " asks 
Cybole, one of the wisest and most learned theo- 
logians of the fifteenth century. 

Itmust be remembered that Jeanne was an illite- 
rate peasant girl. The word church conveyed no 


meaning to her save that of the material edifice, and 
when her false judges pretended to enlighten her on 
the subject, they only confused her. They spoke to 
her of the Church Militant, and the Church Tri- 
umphant, representing the former to her as a society 
composed of the Pope, Cardinals, Bishops, and the 
faithful, but omitting to tell her that Jesus Christ is 
always present in the Church, and that it is infallible 
and indefectible. She understood that her judges, 
men blinded by political passion, and headed by a 
man who had already broken many human laws in 
order to obtain possession of her, and whose hatred 
of her had been manifest in many ways, represented 
the Church, and that to their decision she must sub- 
mit acts and words, commanded expressly by God, 
and which she therefore knew could not be wrong, 
but which on account of the political conse- 
quences involved, she knew they would decide to be 

The question as to whether she would submit her 
words and her acts to the judgment of the Church 
was a very delicate and difificult one in the present 
case, says Brehal, the grand Inquisitor, involving as 
it did, the subject of her Visions, her revelations, 
and her prophecies. These related to the political 
government, the relief of the Kingdom of France, 
and the expulsion of its enemies. If her judges 
had been impartial ones, acting in good faith, they 
would never have opened up this question, for they 
well knew that Jeanne's revelations, having nothing 
in them contrary to Faith, were among those things 
in regard to which the Church suspends her judg- 


ment, awaiting God's clearer approval or condemna- 
tion of them. 

The Maid's supernatural revelations were thus 
beyond the domain of Faith, of that order of truths 
which are related to the Faith, only in an indirect 
manner, through the piety and devotion of the 
faithful, such as certain traditions and legends ; 
the authenticity of certain relics ; and legitimate sub- 
jects of controversy among theologians. Of these 
we say : " Who does not believe, is not damned" 
Each one is entitled to believe on these subjects, 
whatever seems most reasonable to him. Jeanne 
therefore would have committed no sin against 
faith even if she had refused to submit to the Church 
in the matter of her supernatural communications. 
Neither Faith, the Church, nor Holy Scripture, 
obliges us to believe that revelations of the kind 
that she claimed to have received, proceed from evil 

Moreover, she claimed divine inspiration as a 
warrant for those words and acts, in regard to 
which, she was urged to submit to the Church. By 
this particular law of divine inspiration, she was ex- 
empted from the common law. Guided, therefore, no 
doubt, by a divine inspiration, she refused to submit 
to these misguided men who endeavored to delude 
her into believing that they represented the Church, 
but with true Catholic instinct, declared again and 
again, that she referred all her deeds and words to 
the Pope. The rationalist school has endeavored 
to represent the holy Maid as the forerunner of 
Luther, in defying the Church, and proclaiming in- 


dependence of thought. Sympathetic Protestant 
writers, too, love to represent her as a sincere Chris- 
tian, but not a sound churchwoman. To Catholics, 
the respect which Jeanne always showed for the au- 
thority of the Church, by her love and reverence 
for its rites, its sacraments, and its priests, is the 
best proof of the falsity of these assertions. They 
understand that in refusing to submit her revela- 
tions from on high to this hostile assembly, with 
whom condemnation of them was a foregone con- 
clusion, she was only exercising her rights. It is 
more than probable that the two Dominican monks, 
Isambard de la Pierre, and Martin Ladvenu, though 
too timid to withstand Cauchon, as the brave Canon 
Houppeville had done, in behalf of the prisoner, 
instructed her during the visits which some pretext 
or another enabled them to make to her, as to her 
rights on this point, and urged her to appeal to the 
Holy Father, as a means of saving her life. 

The advice of the two monks was only what the 
true Catholic instinct of the Maid had prompted 
her to do. Tormented for many days on this 
subject, harassed, and worn out as she was, nothing 
could wring from her any other reply than that 
which Brehal, the Inquisitor, charged with the ex- 
amination of the Maid's case in 1452, by Charles 
Seventh, pfonounces to be a complete and explicit 
submission : " I refer all my words and acts to the 
Holy Father." His decision was endorsed by the 
ablest theologians in France who after carefully re- 
viewing the trial at Rouen, pronounced Jeanne 
d'Arc a true Catholic. 


At the fourteenth interrogatory, which took place, 
like the last seven, in her dungeon, Jeanne repeated 
the prophetic words: "The French will soon gain 
a great victory, and God will do a work so great 
that nearly all the Kingdom of France will be freed. 
I say it, in order that when it happens, you may 
remember that I said it." 

" When will it happen ? " 

" That remains with God." 

" Will you submit to the decision of the Church ? " 

" I submit myself to God who has sent me, and 
to the saints in Paradise. It seems to me it is all 
one, God and the Church, and that one ought not to 
make any difficulty about it. Why, then, do you 
make any difficulty ? " 

She was asked if she would give up her masculine 
attire, and she refused. Then, as if she realized the 
fate her constancy and resolution were preparing 
for her, she suddenly prayed that the Lords of the 
Church would vouchsafe her this one grace — that if 
she was to be led out to judgment, she be given a 
woman's robe, and a hood wherewith to clothe her- 

" Why do you ask for a woman's robe to go to 
death in ? " asked her questioner. 

But Jeanne no longer saw nor heard him : a vision 
of a narrow street, bordered with tall gabled houses, 
and filled with a curious, shouting, throng had risen 
before her, and when she spoke, it was in answer to 
her own thought : " It will satisfy me if it be long." 

" Do St. Catharine and St. Margaret hate the 
English ? " asked de la Fontaine. 


" They love what God loves, and hate what God 

" Does God hate the English ? " 

** Whether God loves or hates the English, I do 
not know ; but I do know that all of them shall 
be driven from France, except those who die there, 
and that God will give victory to the French against 
the English." 

" Was God for the English, when they were pros- 
perous in France ? " 

" I do not know whether God hated the French 
or not, but I know that He wished to punish them 
for their sins, if they were in sin." 

The same day, in the afternoon, the fifteenth and 
last interrogatory of the Process took place in the 
same place as the preceding ones, and by the same 
commissioner. In the presence of the two judges, 
and six assessors, Jeanne was examined in regard to 
the two angels painted on her standard : and on the 
words, " Jhesus, Maria," which it bore. Then she 
was asked : " You have declared to Monseigneur, the 
Bishop of Beauvais, that you would reply to him and 
his commissioners as you would to Our Holy Father, 
the Pope. Now, there are many questions to 
which you will not answer. Would you answer them 
more fully before the Pope ? " 

" I have told all truthfully, that I know, and if I 
recall anything that I have not told, I will tell it 

" Does it not seem to you that you would feel 
bound to answer the Holy Father more fully touch- 
ing the faith, and the facts of your conscience, than 
you have us ? " 


" Let them take me to him, and I will answer him 
all that I ought to answer him." 

De la Fontaine, who did not expect such a re- 
sponse, abruptly changed the subject. 

" Why was your standard admitted to the cathe- 
dral of Rheims, during the coronation, any more 
than that of the other captains ? " 

Swiftly came what Monseigneur Ricard has finely 
described " as the sublime reply, enduring in the 
history of immortal utterances, like the cry of a 
French and Christian soul, wounded unto death in 
its patriotism and its faith : " It had borne the 
trouble ; it was but right that it should have the 



" Again 
I do refuse you for my judge, and here 
Before you all, appeal unto the pope. 
To bring my whole cause ' fore his holiness, 
And to be judged by him." 

Lent was drawing to a close ; the long trial had 
been dragging on for several weeks, and the English 
were growing impatient. An army which the Car- 
dinal of Winchester had brought over, could not be 
made to stir from the coast in their terror of the 
Maid. The spectacle of these hundreds of strong 
men cowering in fear of a young girl, chained within 
the depths of a mighty fortress, would be ludicrous, 
if it wei'e not for the fierce passions that it made 
work more actively to her destruction. 

Cauchon had hoped to win over to his side some 
of the great Norman jurists, but when he sought the 
opinion of one of the most renowned among them, 
Master Jean Lohier, the result was far from reas- 
suring. Lohier bluntly told him that the trial was 
worth nothing; that it was not in right form ; that 
the assessors were not free ; that it was conducted 
behind closed doors ; and that the accused was not 
able to cope with such questions, and such subtle in- 
tellects. " It is the honor of the prince whose cause 


this young girl upholds, that is on trial," continued 
the resolute Norman, " he ought to be summoned 
hither and given a defender." After delivering his 
soul thus, Lohier departed for Rome. Perhaps he 
was contemplating the journey when he told the 
truth to the all-powerful Bishop. The latter's 
chosen ally and confidant, de la Fontaine, also de- 
serted him. De la Fontaine seems to have been 
gradually awakening to the iniquity of the work re- 
quired of him, until his conscience forbade him to 
take any further part in it. He visited the prisoner, 
instructed her as to her rights as a Catholic, and 
counselled her to appeal to the Holy Father. This 
visit, duly reported to Cauchon, occasioned a 
stormy scene between him and de la Fontaine, after 
which the latter disappears from Rouen, and is 
heard of no more. 

On the eighteenth of March, Passion Sunday, 
Cauchon convened a meeting of the assessors at his 
house, in order to read to them various assertions 
which had been extracted from Jeanne's answers. 
Seventy articles of accusation based on these, were 
drawn up against her, copies of which were furnished 
to the assessors, in order that they might examine 
them, and aid the Bishop with their advice in regard 
to them. 

On the twenty-third of March, the clerk, Manchon, 
entered Jeanne's dungeon and read the report of the 
trial to her in French. After he had finished, she 
said : " I know that I have said what is written in 
this record, and as it has been read to me ; I do not 
contradict it in any point." 


The next day was Palm Sunday, that great and 
touching festival, through whose brief joy and 
triumph the Christian world enters into the darkness 
and humiliation of Holy Week, that leads to the 
blessedness of Easter. To the lonely prisoner, it 
must have been a day of exquisite suffering, which 
had only one alleviation — the thought that her cap- 
tors might relent in their cruelty sufficiently to per- 
mit her to hear Mass and receive the sacraments at 
Easter-tide. This hope was a brief one. On Mon- 
day, Cauchon, attended by four assessors, paid her 
a visit. The prisoner's heart beat high as she heard 
the Bishop open up the subject dearest to her heart, 
only to fall again when she heard the condition that 
was attached to her hearing Mass, and receiving the 
sacraments. It was that she would do so in woman's 

The disappointment, coming so swiftly after hope, 
was so terrible, that she burst into passionate plaint 
and entreaty: "I cannot change my dress;" she 
cried, "must I then be deprived of communion? 
I beseech you, Monseigneurs, let me hear Mass in 
this dress ; it does not change my soul, and it is not 
contrary to the laws of the Church ! " But she 
might as well have pleaded to the stones of her 
dungeon. Cauchon remained inexorable, and even 
to obtain the Bread of Life, for which her soul was 
fainting, Jeanne could not bring herself to explain 
more fully her reasons for refusing. "A delicacy," 
says Monseigneur Perraud, " that is the most exqui- 
site flower of a virtue dearer to the Maid, than life, 
kept her from telling that she clung to her mas- 


culine attire, as her sole defence against the wicked- 
ness of her jailers." 

On Tuesday, the doors of her dungeon opened, 
but it was only to permit her to be led to the great 
hall of the Castle, to hear the articles, founded on 
her answers, read to her. She found more than 
forty of her judges assembled. The proceedings 
began with a speech from the Bishop, in which he 
represented to her that the judges were all church- 
men, learned in both divine and human law, and 
benign and merciful of spirit, with no wish to pun- 
ish, but rather to lead and instruct her in the right 
way. After the Bishop had finished, the Promoter, 
d'Estivet, rose and swore that he had been actuated 
by no evil motives, but had acted only through zeal 
for the faith. The Bishop then urged Jeanne to 
choose one or more from among them to help her. 

This tardy offer of help and counsel was refused 
by Jeanne in the following words : " In the first 
place, concerning my good and our faith, I thank 
you and all the company. As for the counsellor 
you offer me, I thank you also, but I have no need 
to depart from Our Lord as my counsellor." 

Thomas de Courcelles then began to read to her 
in the French language, the seventy articles. This 
formality occupied three sessions. Compelled to 
answer anew to accusations that she had answered 
so completely already, she contented herself with 
saying : " I appeal to what I have already answered ; 
the rest I deny." Sometimes she says, " I deny it 

It was not necessary to go far in order to prove 


the falsity of this court's accusations, for to each of 
the seventy propositions, it had appended extracts 
from the answers on which they are based. These 
extracts are the refutation of the article. 

The second article, accusing her of sacrilege, 
superstitious acts, and divinations, she denied, and 
in respect to the charge that she had allowed her- 
self to be adored, said " that if any one kissed her 
hands or her garments, it was not by her will, and 
that she kept herself from it as much as she could," 
and the rest of the article, she denies. 

Even the folk-lore of Domremy, and the legends 
of the fairies that peopled the oak-wood, were used 
as the base of a charge against her. She answered 
it with some indignation, declaring that "as for 
fairies, she did not know what they were, and as for 
her education she had been well and duly instructed, 
what to believe, as a good child should." 

When the Bishop asked her in what words she 
called upon the Voices, she responded with the 
following beautiful and touching prayer : 

" Gentle God, in honor of thy Sacred Passion, I 
implore of Thee, by Thy love for me, to reveal to 
me how I should answer these Churchmen." 

She asked for time in order to answer the articles 
relative to submission to the Church. Isambard de 
la Pierre, taking advantage, no doubt, of some pro- 
pitious moment when Cauchon's attention was 
distracted from the prisoner, whispered to Jeanne 
to appeal to the Council of Bale, then assembled. 
She asked in the same tone, what the Council of 
Bale was, and he explained to her that it was an 


assembly in which there would be found many 
ecclesiastics of her own party. Cauchon would 
appear to have caught the latter part of the friar's 
explanation, for he sternly ordered him to be silent. 
Jeanne appealed to the Council of Bale, but 
Cauchon paid no heed, and when the scribe 
Manchon asked if her appeal should be recorded, 
he answered: " It is not necessary." "Ah," said 
the Maid plaintively ; " you set down what is 
against me, but you do not set down what is for 

A murmur ran through the assembly when it was 
found that the prisoner's appeal to a general coun- 
cil was not to be recorded. 

Brother Isambard had like to pay dearly for the 
counsel he had given Jeanne. The Bishop was 
furious with him, and the Earl of Warwick abused 
him and threatened to have him thrown into the 

But the Inquisitor Lemaitre sternly warned 
both of them that if any harm came to either 
Brother Isambard, or Brother Martin, the other 
Dominican friar who had already fallen under 
Cauchon's displeasure for advising Jeanne to appeal 
to the Holy Father, he would withdraw from the 
case. As he was taking part in it very much 
against his will, Cauchon and Warwick realized that 
this was no idle threat, and restrained their wrath 

Although it was Holy Week, when Cauchon, act- 
ing as Archbishop of the vacant See of Rouen, 
might well have urged his ecclesiastical duties as a 


reason for letting the case rest, he devoted three 
days during it to the re-examination of the prisoner. 

On Good Friday, " the day of the great silence," 
she was left in peace, but on Easter Eve, the Bishop 
and nine assessors entered her cell and asked her if 
she would submit to the judgment of the Church 
Militant, all that she had said and done. She an- 
swered that she would, provided that it did not en- 
force anything impossible ; explaining that by im- 
possible, she meant being required to declare that her 
Visions and revelations came from any source but 
God, or that what she had done, was not on the part 
of God. Asked if she had directions from her 
Voices not to obey the Church, she answered that 
she had never been told not to obey the Church, 
but Our Lord must be served first. 

Then they went away, leaving her to pass the 
great feast of Easter, without the least religious 
consolation. But they could not keep all tokens of 
the Easter-tide from her. She had always had a 
strange fondness for the sound of the church bells, 
and now, when the five hundred bells of Rouen sent 
their joyous peals through the soft spring air into 
the dreary dungeon, they sent with them some of the 
peace and joy of the Resurrection. She was still 
treading in the footsteps of Gethsemane, but she 
knew not how close she was to her Calvary, nor to 
the endless joy of an eternal Easter. 

After Cauchon's visit on Easter Eve, the prisoner 
was left in peace for a considerable time. The 
Bishop and his chosen assistants were busy, reducing 
the seventy articles to twelve, in order to furnish a 


summary of the case to the University of Paris, for 
its judgment. 

In the meantime, Jeanne fell ill. It was only the 
natural consequence of her long confinement in a 
dark dungeon, and the prolonged mental strain to 
which she had been subjected, but she seems to have 
connected its first symptoms with her eating of a 
carp which Cauchon had sent her for Easter. 
D'Estivet, who was present when she stated this to 
be the case, flew to the conclusion that she was insin- 
uating that the Bishop had poisoned her, and abused 
her violently, declaring that she had made herself 
sick by " eating aloes and other evil things." He 
omitted to mention how a chained and strongly 
guarded prisoner had obtained the aloes and other 
evil things. 

D'Estivet need not have been so warm in his 
patron's defence, because no one dreamed of accus- 
ing Cauchon of wishing to poison Jeanne. It was 
not thus his masters wished her to die, and he, ac- 
cordingly, was very much concerned about her fate. 
Warwick sent the best physicians of Rouen to her 
bedside, and she received every attention, though 
we do not learn that the terribe chains were re- 
moved, or that any woman was allowed to attend 
her. The manners of the times may be conceived 
from the words that Warwick, a belted earl, uttered 
in her hearing, bidding the physicians do their best to 
save her: " because it would displease the King very 
much if she were to die a natural death, seeing that 
he had bought her at a high price, and that it was 
necessary, for justice's sake, that she be burned." 


D'Estivet's abuse had a bad effect on the sick girl, 
the fever increased to such a degree, that the 
remedy usual in those days in such cases, was pro- 
posed — to bleed her. We do not learn whether this 
was done, or not, but the fever seems to have sub- 
sided from some cause, leaving her worn and wasted, 
and so weak that she seems to have thought that 
death was near. On the eighteenth of April, the 
Bishop entered her cell to inquire after her health, 
and make her a charitable visit. He assured her 
that he and the other assessors were ready to do any- 
thing for the salvation of her soul and body, by in- 
structing or advising her. 

She answered, " It seems to me, that I am in 
danger of death ; and if it is thus that God pleases 
to decide for me, I ask of you to allow me to con- 
fess and receive my Saviour, and to be laid in con- 
secrated ground." 

" If you desire to have the rites and sacraments 
of the Church," answered Cauchon, "you must do 
as good Catholics ought to do ; submit to Holy 

She answered, " I can say no other thing to you 
than I have said." 

They asked her if she believed that the Holy 
Scripture was revealed by God, and she answered : 
" You know that I do, and it is good to know." 

Even in her weakness and languor, she Avas not 
suffered to escape without the usual long exhor- 
tation, this time by Nicholas Midi. At its close, 
she was questioned again in regard to her sub- 
mission, but she answered, " Whatever may happen 


to me, I will neither do nor say anything else, for I 
have answered before, during the trial." 

Whether the doctors interceded for her or 
not, does not appear, but she was left at peace 
during the next fortnight. In the grateful silence, 
the heavenly Voices sounded. But among the 
angelic forms, St. Michael, the great Archangel of 
battle, was seen no more ; his place was taken by 
Gabriel, the angel of grace and divine love. She 
slowly regained her strength, and by the second of 
May, the judges deemed her sufficiently recovered 
to hear a" public admonition," and she was accord- 
ingly led from her dungeon to the great halt of the 
Castle, where sixty of them were assembled. The 
way thither led past the chapel, Avhose door seems 
this day, to have been open. The sight of the 
Hghted, sanctuary lamp, no doubt, told Jeanne of 
the Presence within, of the only Friend she had in 
this pitiless world, filling her with intense joy. She 
knelt in prayer for sometime, no doubt as long as 
Massieu, the officer of the Court, dared to allow her 
to remain. One of the guards must have told Cau- 
chon of the incident, for he reprimanded Massieu 
severely for permitting the prisoner this indulgence. 

The ground that had been gone over so often 
before, was again covered, without any other result 
than on previous occasions. When she had an- 
swered to the question of submission to the Church, 
that she appealed to the Pope and a general council, 
Cauchon replied that the Pope was too far away to 
appeal to, and that she must accept the court's 
decision without recourse. 


The indomitable spirit of the Maid was a surprise 
to all her judges. It rose above illness, confine- 
ment and barbarous treatment, as did her mind above 
the theological snares that were spread for it. 
There was only one thing that had not been used, 
that hideous means of persuasion with which every 
prison of the Middle Ages was provided. When 
her dungeon doors opened again, on the ninth of 
May, she was conducted, not to the great hall of 
the castle, but through dim and echoing stone 
passages, to a chamber in the great tower, where 
she was confronted with the terrible instruments of 
torture, and the waiting executioners. 

The Maid surveyed them calmly, then turning 
to those of the judges who were present, said to 
them : " Truly, if you were to tear me limb from 
limb, and force the soul out of my body, I would 
say nothing but what I have said, and if I did, T 
would say afterwards that it was the torture had 
made me utter it." 

She was conducted back to her cell. On the 
following Saturday, the twelfth of May, the Bishop 
called a meeting at his house, of the Vice-Inquisitor, 
twelve assessors, and an English ecclesiastic, named 
Haiton, to discuss the advisability of subjecting 
Jeanne to torture. To the credit of humanity be 
it said, only three were found to vote for it — Loy- 
seleur, Morel, and de Courcelles. We distinguish 
Morel from the crowd of assessors only at this 
sinister moment ; Loyseleur was only doing what 
might be expected from one of his character; but 
Courcelles was a man distinguished for his intellec- 


tual ability, and for his gentle, modest, and grave de- 
meanor. A sympathetic biographer of Jeanne 
d'Arc, while execrating his approval of the torture, 
gives him credit for his austere life and his devotion 
to the Church. If she had consulted some good 
Catholic authority on the subject of Courcelles' 
devotion to the Church, she would have found that 
the Church has little to thank him for. He was the 
" father of the Galilean liberties," the principal 
framer of the decrees of the schismatic Council of 
Bale, and the tenacious defender of the Pragmatic 
Sanction of Bourges. Pere d'Ayrolles terms him 
"one of the great precursors of Luther and Calvin." 
He had been rector of the University during the 
period directly after Jeanne's capture, when it pur- 
sued her with so much bitterness ; he wasCauchon's 
right hand during the trial ; and crowned his labors 
by voting for the torture to be applied to the 
prisoner, although he knew that Canon Law forbade 
its being applied to women. 

When summoned to testify at his holy victim's 
Rehabilitation, his embarrassment was pitiable. His 
answers were marked by reticence, hesitations, and 
omissions; every utterance was carefully calculated 
to give an impression of the slightness of the part 
he had taken in the trial. In his later years he 
became dean of the Chapter of Paris, and heightened 
his reputation for humility by refusing a cardinal's 
hat from his creature, the anti-pope Felix V. He 
passed away at a good old age, and rests under 
an epitaph that records his great learning. He be- 
longed to a class well described by Pius IX, when 


he said : " It is impossible to imagine anything 
more dangerous, or more pernicious, than that class 
of men, who, affecting exteriorly the appearances of 
honesty and piety, secretly divide and break Cath- 
olic forces, increase the audacity of the enemy, 
and excite more violent anger against the true 
children of the Church. 

Ten days later, the verdict of the University of 
Paris arrived. All the members of the Court as- 
sembled in the Chapel of the Archbishop's house, 
to hear the great document read, and also the 
individual opinions of many eminent doctors and 
ecclesiastics. The decision of the University was 
of great length, for after setting forth its solemn con- 
sideration of every one of the twelve articles, it gave 
its verdict upon each. The Maid's revelations were 
pronounced : " murderous, seductive, and pernicious 
fictions :" her visions declared to be " those of Be- 
lial, Satan, and Behemoth." Blasphemy, supersti- 
tion, idolatry, cruelty, impiety, lying, presumption, 
were among her faults: she was a schismatic, a 
heretic, an apostate, an idolater, and an invoker of 
demons. There really seemed to be scarcely any 
kind of fault that Jeanne was free from. It con- 
cluded by declaring that " if the aforesaid woman, 
after being charitably exhorted and admonished by 
competent judges, does not return spontaneously to 
the Catholic faith, publicly abjure her errors, and 
give full satisfaction to her judges, she is hereby 
given up to the secular arm to receive the reward of 
her deeds." Every faculty, and all the '* Nations " 
had subscribed to the verdict — it was all perfectly 


regular and in due form — signed and sealed and at- 
tested by the ecclesiastical notaries. It was accom- 
panied by a request to the King of England, 
supplicating him " to deal promptly with this 
woman who has so greatly scandalized the people, 
since the length of the delay is very perilous." 

After the decision of the University, the opinions 
of the individual doctors who had been consulted, 
were read. All of these were by no means in 
accord with that of the University. Some requested 
that the whole Report of the trial be sent to the 
University instead of the twelve articles. Others 
insert a reservation : " Unless these revelations come 
from God." The opinion of the Bishop of Av- 
ranches was suppressed altogether, for the reason, 
as we learn from a sworn deposition, that his opinion 
was, that " in doubtful matters concerning the Faith, 
one should, according to St. Thomas, have recourse 
to the Pope or a general council." 

After the reading, every one present was asked 
for his opinion. The decisive moment had at 
length come, and every man present knew what 
was expected of him. England, the power that had 
brought them there, had decided it to be expedient 
that the prisoner should die, and the great Univer- 
sity had done its best to bring this to pass. All that 
remained for them to do, therefore, was to endorse 
Its decision. A note of compassion is heard here and 
there, as from Brother Isambard who desired that 
she should be charitably admonished once more, 
and that her fate still remain in the hands of " us her 
judges," but almost all condemned her. It was finally 


decided that a day should be appointed so the Maid 
might have an opportunity of retracting, failing 
which, she should be delivered to secular justice. 

On the twenty-third of May, the verdict was an- 
nounced to Jeanne, and a last admonition addressed 
to her by Pierre Morice. She answered by declar- 
ing that if she saw the pile prepared, and the execu- 
tioner ready to light it, she would say what she had 
said, and maintain it till death. On the margin of 
the record, the scribe has written opposite this re- 
ply of the pale, and wasted, but undaunted prisoner, 
^' Responsio JohanrKB siiperba,'' — the proud answer 
of Jeanne. " And immediately," the record goes 
on, " the Promoter and she refusing to say any more, 
the Cause was concluded." 

The following day, the doors of Jeanne's dungeon 
opened again, and Massieu led her out : not this 
time, in the direction of the great hall of the castle, 
but to the entrance of the great fortress, whose 
threshold her feet had pressed but once — the day 
she crossed it to begin her martyrdom within it. 

She was conducted to the cemetery of Saint Ouen, 
then a great open space behind the beautiful and 
stately monastic church of that name, where her judg- 
es and a vast concourse of people were awaiting her. 

The English garrison was under arms, drawn up 
around two scaffolds, on one of which was the 
Cardinal of Winchester, with his suite, and Jeanne's 
judges. Massieu conducted Jeanne to the other. 

Erard was the preacher of the occasion. He be- 
gan by pointing out to Jeanne the executioner, and 


warning her that she would be burned if she did not 
abjure ; then he proceeded with his sermon. Dur- 
ing the course of it, he cried : " O France, thou art 
much abused. Thou hast always been a most 
Christian land, but now Charles, who calls himself 
thy King and governor, adheres like a schismatic 
and heretic (as he is) to the words and the deeds of 
a foolish woman, full of dishonor ; and not only he, 
but the clergy of his obedience and domain, by 
whom she has been examined, and not discredited, 
as she says." Then turning towards Jeanne, he 
said, " It is to thee, Jeanne, that I speak, and I say 
to thee that thy King is heretic and schismatic." 

Jeanne had endured all his insults in silence, but 
she could not bear to have him who represented 
the Kingship and the France which she loved so 
well, traduced, and she answered : " By my faith, 
sire, with all reverence, I maintain and will swear, 
under pain of my life, that he is the most noble 
Christian of all Christians, and loves the Church 
and the faith right well." 

Irritated by this unexpected interruption, Erard 
said to Massieu, " Make her be silent," and went 
on with his sermon. After he had finished, Jeanne 
was asked whether she would submit her words 
and deeds to the Church or not. 

"I will give you an answer," she said : "As re- 
gards submission to the Church, I have already 
replied to you on that point. As to all the things 
which I have said and done, let them be sent to 
Rome, to our Holy Father, the Pope, to whom and 
to God, in the first place, I appeal. As to my 


words and my acts, I have said and done them as 
from God." In vain the question was twisted and 
turned ; her answer was the same. 

Cauchon then began to read the sentence. The 
people, who had pressed about the scaffold to gaze 
at the prisoner, implored her to save herself: 
Massieu, and many other of the assessors joined in 
the entreaty. Cauchon stopped reading, perhaps to 
give his assistants time to prevail ; perhaps in re- 
sponse to some sign or motion on Jeanne's part 
which gave him hope that he might yet obtain 
the coveted abjuration which he insisted was 
worth more to the English than the Maid's death. 
The English did not agree with him on this 
point, and were furious at having the long de- 
ferred condemnation interrupted. The chaplain of 
the Cardinal, and other members of his suite, ac- 
cused Cauchon of being partial to the prisoner. 
The Bishop indignantly (and most truthfully) denied 
this charge. Hot words followed, during which the 
names of liars and traitor were flung to and fro. 

While this dispute was going on, Erard was fol- 
lowing up the advantage which Jeanne's hesitation 
had given him, with all his power. He showed her 
the waiting cart and executioner; and depicted 
with all the eloquence for which he was famous, the 
horrors of the death awaiting her if she persisted in 
her obstinacy, and the little she was asked to do in 
order to save herself from it. At length she asked 
what it was they wished her to sign, and a paper of 
five or six lines was read to her which restricted it- 
self to the minor points of her hair, dress, etc. 


She asked if she would be transferred to a prison 
of the church, and some one assured her that she 
would. As she had agreed to resume feminine dress 
if she were placed under the protection of the 
Church, she concluded that she was justified in 
agreeing to the conditions imposed, and said " I 
will sign." The paper which they had read to her 
began, " I Jeanne." But as soon as she had agreed 
to sign, Calot, secretary to the King of England, 
drew from his sleeve a paper, and she made a round 
at the bottom of it, and Calot appears to have 
directed her hand to trace a cross. 

Now the text of her pretended abjuration is a 
paper of fifty lines of printed matter, and begins 
with the words : " Every person," so we must con- 
clude that Calot fraudulently substituted the paper 
beginning: " Every person," and which is a denial 
of her divine mission, for the short paper, beginning, 
" I, Jeanne," which she agreed to sign, or that she 
actually signed the right one, and that for this was 
afterwards substituted the paper beginning " Every 
person," with Jeanne's mark forged at the foot of it. 
But even, if for the sake of argument, it be con- 
ceded that she signed the abjuration, it avails noth- 
ing, for the Sentence of Rehabilitation characterized 
it as "false, lying, extorted by force and fear, in 
presence of the executioner," and under the threat 
of fire, without Jeanne's having had previous knowl- 
edge of it, and without her having understood it. 
In no sense was the truth of her mission invalidated. 

The delight of the University party at obtaining 
the coveted abjuration that would enable them to 


discredit the King of France by proclaiming that 
he had trusted in an impostor, was equalled only by 
the rage of the English who saw as they fancied, their 
prey escaping from them by means of it. There was, 
however, only one thing that Winchester could say, 
when Cauchon turned to him and announced that the 
pi-isoner had abjured her errors, and he said it : " Ad- 
mit her to penitence." Cauchon then read the sen- 
tence. She was doomed to perpetual, solitary, 
imprisonment, "with the bread of suffering, and the 
water of anguish " as her only nourishment. Her 
first emotion seems to have been one of relief, for she 
expected that now she would be conveyed to some 
prison of the Church, away from the hideous dun- 
geon, the horrible guards and the terrible irons. 
There was hesitation on the part of the officials, and 
Jeanne cried out : " Men of the Church, lead me to 
your prison ! " Pierre Miger, a friar, hurried over to 
Cauchon to ask if this might be done. But Cau- 
chon ordered her to be taken whence she had come ! 
She was accordingly conducted back to her old 

■ All during her trial, she had suffered much both 
in body and mind. Even in the midst of 
strenuous action, we have seen how her gentle, 
affectionate, nature was smitten again and again 
with a keen longing for the old home life with its 
simple joys and duties. And on the day when, 
after long months of a dungeon, she had felt the 
soft May breeze blowing against her pallid cheeks, 
and seen the land in all the tender bloom of 
Spring, must not the longing for the green valley 


of the Meuse, and the oak-wood of the Vosges, 
where even then, perhaps, the children were gather- 
ing garlands for Our Lady's shrine, have made 
her almost sick with its intensity ? She was only 
nineteen, and life and freedom seemed so good and 
sweet to her, that we can not Avonder that she 
interpreted the supernatural assurance that she 
would be delivered by a great victory, as meaning 
that she would be delivered from prison. 

That very afternoon, the Vicar Inquisitor, 
accompanied by several of the assessors, visited 
her. The Inquisitor, who seems to have always 
treated her with gentleness, seems to have really 
rejoiced at her escape. He congratulated her, and 
urged her to remain firm, gently warning her that 
if she fell back into her evil ways, there would be 
no further clemency for her. One wonders that 
a man .so kindly disposed towards her did not exert 
his influence as Inquisitor, to remove the Maid from 
the custody of the low wretches that formed her 
guard, and indeed, he and several other Doctors 
seem to have made some effort to obtain this, but 
the English would not give up their prey. "Woman's 
clothing was then given her, and she was solemnly 
commanded to wear it thenceforth. She meekly 
replied that in all things she would obey the Church. 
Then the visitors departed, leaving the heart-broken 
Maid to the horrors of her duntjeon. 



" But souls that of His own good life partake 
He loves as His own self ; dear as His eye. 
They are to him ; He'll never them forsake. 
When they die, then God himself shall die : 
They live, they live in blest eternity," 

For three days, all was quiet. The English, 
trusting in Cauchon's assurance that all would be 
well, waited for him to set his trap. They had not 
long to wait. On Sunday morning, the feast of the 
Trinity, according to Massieu's testimony at the 
Rehabilitation, the prisoner said to her guards : 
" Unchain me ; I wish to rise." She then found that 
the woman's dress, which she had worn for the pre- 
vious three days, had been removed, and masculine 
attire put in its place. She remonstrated with her 
jailers, saying : " Sirs, you know this is forbidden 
me. Without blame, I may not put it on." But 
they paid no heed to her entreaties, and she was at 
length obliged to put it on. Another witness, Lsam- 
bard de la Pierre, says that she excused herself for 
having resumed the masculine attire on'the ground 
that it afforded her protection. Martin Ladvenu, 
her confessor, declares that it was the dread of out- 
rage by a certain English nobleman which impelled 
her to resume her masculine attire. 



The official record is silent in regard to the causes 
of her action. According to it, she declared : 
"Yes, I have put on again my masculine dress; 
I have done it of my own will, and without any 
constraint. Being with men, it is more proper 
that I dress like a man than like a woman. I have 
taken it again because they have not done to me 
as they promised. I would rather die than be 
treated so." 

Do not these different versions, under their 
seeming contradiction, complement one another? 
Is not her recorded utterance the plaint of a pure 
woman, whose exquisite refinement will not permit 
her to speak any more plainly to those who, knowing 
her danger, refused to give her the protection of 
an ecclesiastical prison, as they had promised? 

The news of Jeanne's relapse was at once com- 
municated to Warwick, and by him to the Bishop. 
Early the following morning, Cauchon made his 
appearance in Jeanne's cell, followed by eight asses- 
sors and two clerks. Jeanne knew that their visit 
meant death ; but confronted them, no longer the be- 
wildered, terrified girl of the cemetery of Saint Ouen, 
but the Jeanne d'Arc of old, calm and intrepid. In 
reply to Cauchon's question as to what the Voices 
had said to her since the Thursday before, she an- 
swered : " God tells thee, through us, the great pity 
He has for this great treason to which thou hast con- 
sented ; to make abjuration and revocation, to save 
thy life ! Before last Thursday, my Voices told 
me what I must do and say on that day. When I 
was on the scaffold, my Voices said to me while the 


preacher was speaking: 'Answer this preacher 
boldly.' Indeed he is a false preacher, for he re- 
proached me with many things that I have never 
done." Then, rising to the full grandeur and sub- 
limity of her vocation as a prophetess, and the 
chosen messenger of God, she solemnly declared : 
" If I were to say that God had not sent me I 
would be damned, for verily. He hath sent me ! " 

When it was represented to her that she had 
denied this on Thursday, she answered : " All that 
I said and revoked, I did through fear of the fire. 
I did not understand what the schedule of abjur- 
ation contained. I revoke nothing of what I have 
said and done by the good pleasure of God." 

These words crowned the edifice which her 
enemies had been at so much trouble and expense 
in rearing. As Cauchon hastened through the 
gloomy corridors of the old fortress, he could not 
conceal his joy, and encountering the Earl of War- 
wick and some gentlemen, said as he passed them : 
"Farewell! Farewell! Be of good cheer! All is 
settled ! " 

The Court at once re-assembled, and the result of 
its deliberations was that Jeanne had relapsed, that 
she should have her fault explained to her, and 
then be handed over to secular justice begging of 
it to treat her with tenderness. The judges thanked 
the assessors, and cited the Maid to appear before 
them the following morning at eight o'clock in the 
old Market-Place, " to hear herself declared re- 
lapsed, heretic, and excommunicate, and be dealt 
with according to the custom in such cases." 


The following morning, Martin Ladvenu ap- 
peared in Jeanne's dungeon, and told her that he had 
been sent to announce to her, her approaching 
death, and the kind of punishment she was to suffer, 
in order to induce a true contrition and penitence, 
and also to hear her confession. 

Straitened as she was on every side, the only 
hope for her, she well knew, was death. Accus- 
tomed as she was to the sights and scenes of war, 
the stroke of the axe, or of the sword, had little terror 
for her; to have obtained her release by either, 
would have seemed almost like dying on the field of 
battle. But the prospect of the lingering torments 
of death by fire, the knowledge that she would be 
divested of her garments under the eyes of the 
populace, before being handed over to the arm of 
secular justice, to be clothed in the hideous gown of 
the condemned, overcame her. The heroic patience 
and silence with which she had hitherto borne her 
unspeakable sufferings, gave way, and humanity as- 
serted itself in a passionate cry of anguish, and an 
appeal to God against the cruel wrongs that had been 
done to her. Some writers aver that in this hour 
of supreme desolation, she declared that her Voices 
had deceived her, in that they had promised to de- 
liver her from prison, and that she renounced all be- 
lief in them. But this is going even further than 
her enemies, for as Pere d'Ayroles points out, in 
their records, which furnish the only warrant for the 
assertion, all that is said is, that Jeanne left it to the 
Church to decide the character of her revelations. 
Inserted as this declaration is in the Process, with- 


out even a signature, long after the case had been 
closed and sentence rendered, it is not entitled to 
the slightest belief.* Against it too, must be set 
the solenan deposition, at her Rehabilitation, of 
Brother Martin, a poor friar who had nothing to 
gain or lose in this world, " that always, until the 
end of her life, she maintained and declared that 
the Voices she had heard were of God, and did not 
believe that the said Voices had ever deceived her." 
But even if it were true, should the momentary 
faltering of a girl, bewildered by the long mental 
strain of her trial, exhausted by a cruel and barbar- 
ous imprisonment, and the weight of heavy chains, 
suddenly confronted v/ith death in a form so terri- 
ble that it almost made her reason totter, be counted 
against the solemn and unwavering belief of many 

In this hour of utter abandonment, and deep, 
mysterious, agony, the soul of this daughter of elec- 
tion was conformed more closely to the likeness of 
its divine Master. Then she rose from it " stronger 
than her sorrow ; " all fear and desolation of spirit 
had passed ; the peace of God that passeth all under- 
standing, which the world can neither give nor take 
away, had come upon her. Her work, that had been 
blessed by shame, and consecrated by humiliation, 
was now to be stamped with the Divine Seal of an 
ignominious death for justice's sake, which was to 
crown these long months of suffering during which 

* It is, however, on assertions like these, utterly valueless as 
evidence, that many secularist historians ground their charge 
that Jeanne d'Arc retracted the morning of her death. 


she had been testifying, not only to those of her own 
time, but to all future generations, that she had 
been sent by God. 

The good monk, Martin Ladvenu, heard her con- 
fession. He found her soul to be what he had 
thought it, when from his place among her ac- 
cusers, he had regarded her with compassionate 
eyes. His soul yearned to give her the Bread of 
Life, of which she had been so cruelly deprived 
for so many weary months, but how could this be 
accomplished ? The ecclesiastical law, in whose 
name she had been condemned, forbade the Sac- 
raments to be given to one relapsed, unless he 
repented. Now Jeanne not only was not repentant 
of what they termed her relapse, but maintained 
that she had never recanted. He consulted Mas- 
sieu in regard to the matter, and Massieu went to 
Cauchon, and obtained permission from him for 
Brother Martin to give Jeanne " the Eucharist, and 
all that she would ask." In so doing, Cauchon 
condemned himself. For if he had been a sincere 
Catholic, and really believed Jeanne to be a heretic, 
and in communication with Satan, he could not 
conscientiously have permitted her to defile the 
Sacraments by partaking of them, in an impenitent 
state. It is probable, however, that Cauchon's 
faith was dead, and that the place, and the power 
of this world, were the only realities to him. This 
being so, he would readily accord the prisoner a 
consolation that would not prevent her destruction. 

Brother Martin went to a neighboring church, 
and made his request. Whether Cauchon had 


supplemented his permission with a warning, or 
whether terror of the English prompted the proceed- 
ing, the priest assigned to the duty, placed the 
host on a paten, covered it with the veil of the 
chalice and started to carry it to the condemned, 
without the lights, the public prayers, or the pro- 
cession, that in those ages of Faith, always accom- 
panied the Blessed Sacrament through the streets. 
At this proof of cowardice, Brother Martin, into 
whose timid soul some of Jeanne's spirit would 
seem to have passed, raised his voice in protest. 
So convincing was his appeal, that in a few moments, 
the bells were ringing, candles were lighted, and 
the sound of hymns rose to the great church's 
vaulted roof from the crowds that hastened to form 
in procession to escort the Blessed Eucharist to the 
prisoner. %bsw^»»**^ 

It was a beautiful May morning, and the sunlight 
glanced down into the dark and narrow streets, 
bordered with tall gabled houses, that led to the 
great fortress, and mingled with the pale, mystical, 
light of the long rows of candles, in the hands 
of the kneeling multitude. Perhaps to Jeanne, 
awaiting her Lord, there may have reached the 
sound of prayer for a soul in agony. When the 
priest who entered her cell, bearing the Blessed 
Sacrament, of which she had been so long deprived, 
she wept with joy, and received it as Holy Viati- 
cum, with such faith and devotion, that Brother 
Martin declares himself utterly unable to describe 
the scene. 

After she had finished her thanksgiving, she 


found Brother Pierre Morice, another friend and 
sympathiser, waiting to speak with her. The grief 
which he could not conceal disturbed for a moment 
Jeanne's calmness, and she said brokenly : " O 
Master Pierre, where do you believe that I shall be 
this evening ? " 

" My child," answered the Monk, " have you no 
hope in God? " 

"Oh, yes," she replied, "and I have confidence 
that he will receive me into Paradise." 

She became again absorbed in prayer. From 
below came up the tramp of soldiers forming in 
detachments in the courtyard, and other sounds of 
preparation for the terrible tragedy, but she paid 
no heed. Then there was the sound of footsteps, 
and the rustle of silken robes, and Bishop Cauchon, 
attended by a group of canons, appeared in the 
dungeon. No doubt he hoped to take advantage 
of his victim's agony to extort some word that 
could be used against her. But the soul of Jeanne 
d'Arc had risen again to its own level, beyond the 
troubling of Cauchon or his kind. She merely said 
to him : " Bishop, I die because of you. If you 
had placed me in the prisons of the Church, I would 
not be here. I appeal from you to God ! " For 
the first time, the Bishop betrayed embarrassment ; 
he retired precipitately v/ith his attendants. 

It was nearing the hour of eight, when Jeanne 
left the gloomy dungeon in which she had passed 
five weary months, and came forth into the May 
morning, to die. The masculine costume, which had 
so excited the ire of her enemies, must have been 


taken from her, for Massieu says in his deposition 
at her Rehabilitation, that she was clothed in habitu 
inulieris — in woman's dress. In tlie courtyard of 
the Castle, a heavy cart, drawn by four horses, was 
awaiting her, and she took her place in it attended 
by Massieu, and the two Dominicans, Martin Lad- 
venu, and Isambard de la Pierre. Eight hundred 
English soldiers guarded the way that led to the 
market-place. Behind theirbristling spears, a kneel- 
ing, praying multitude lined the streets. , As the 
cart passed out of the courtyard, there was a slight 
disturbance among the people, caused by a man en- 
deavoring to force his way toward the condemned. 
It was Loyseleur, who had not hesitated to commit 
even sacrilege in order to satisfy his master, but 
whose conscience was aroused as he saw her whom 
he had helped to slay, going forth to her doom. 
With wild entreaties for pardon, in a voice that grief 
rendered almost inaudible, the wretched man en- 
deavored to throw himself on his knees. But the 
bristling English lances barred the way to his 
victim ; and the soldiers thrust him back with 
curses, to carry to the grave the weight of his re- 
morse, unassuaged by the assurance of Jeanne's 

As the cart lumbered through the narrow streets, 
Jeanne remained absorbed in prayer. So touching 
were the petitions to God of this noblest of his crea- 
tures, for whom earth had nothing but a scaffold, 
that the three priests could not restrain their tears. 

At length the old market-place was reached, on 
one side of which, rising from amid a forest of spears, 


was the lofty scaffold. On its topmost point, af- 
fixed to the post to which the condemned was to be 
chained, was the following inscription, in letters 
large enough to be legible at a great distance : 


Jeanne was unable to read, but she understood 
the import of the superscription. She made no 
comment on it, however. The sight of the scaffold 
seemed to have carried her back to other scenes 
and other days, for she murmured, " O Rouen, 
Rouen, is it here that I must die ? " 

It was not in this way indeed, that she had hoped 
to pass through the streets of the old Norman city, 
but at the head of her victorious soldiers, after she 
had conquered it for the King. 

Besides the scaffold, there were three platforms in 
the square. On the largest of these, over which 
waved a banner displaying the united arms of 
France and England, in sign of the double power 
claimed by the invader, were the Cardinal of 
Winchester, several bishops, and a considerable num- 
ber of the assessors. On either side of the scaffold 
was a smaller platform. On one of these were 
seated the lay judges, the other was reserved for the 
condemned and the preacher. 

As soon as Jeanne had taken her place on this 
platform, with Massieu and the two faithful Domin- 


icans still beside her, the preacher, Nicholas Midi, 
arose and began his discourse. He took his text 
from St. Paul to the Corinthians : If a member 
suffers, all the members suffer with him ; and proved, 
that in order to preserve the other members from 
sickness, it was necessary to cut off the sick mem- 
ber. Finally, turning to the prisoner, he concluded 
with the terrible Avords : "Jeanne, go in peace; the 
Church can no longer defend thee, she abandons 
thee to the secular arm." 

Bishop Cauchon now advanced. According to the 
unanimous opinion of the assessors, he should have 
read to the prisoner the formula of her abjuration. 
But he well knew that to do so, would be to draw 
from Jeanne a solemn denial that she had ever con- 
fessed to such infamies, and by thus exposing the 
first fraud which had been practiced on her, render 
the new injustice of which she was to be made the 
victim, impossible. So he confined himself to a 
declaration that the prisoner had never become de- 
tached from her old errors, that she had rendered 
herself still more guilty by pretending to repent of 
her faults, and had shown herself to be obstinate 
and incorrigible, a heretic and a relapser into error. 
It only remained for him, therefore, to pronounce 
the solemn decree which cast out the condemned 
from the fold of the Church, and delivered her to 
secular justice. 

Jeanne had listened calmly and attentively to 
both harangues. When Cauchon pronounced the 
terrible sentence, she fell on her knees, and prayed 
aloud. Like her divine Master, in this hour of su- 


preme agony, she prayed for her executioners, and 
for those who had abandoned her. Dreading lest 
the shadow of her ignominy fall upon the Kingship, 
which from first to last, was the sole earthly passion 
of her heart, she declared that " her King was a 
stranger to her mission." She bore public testimony 
to her unfaltering belief in the divine character of 
her revelations. 

At the sound of that exquisite voice, rising 
through the solemn stillness, and the sight of the 
child-like, white-robed form, kneeling there in 
the May sunshine, a wave of sympathy swept over 
the multitude. She asked for a cross, and an English 
soldier hastily made one of two strips of wood, and 
handed it to her. She pressed it to her heart with 
ejaculations of love, and placed it inside her robe, 
upon her heart. Turning to Massieu, she asked 
him to hold up a cross where she could see it till 
the end. Massieu sent a messenger to the Church 
of the Holy Saviour, on the opposite side of the 
square, to ask for one. In a few moments, one of 
the priests from that church appeared with a large 
crucifix which he gave to Massieu. Jeanne em- 
braced it with the utmost faith and love, " recom- 
mending herself to God." She then begged the 
priests who were present to say a mass for the re- 
pose of her soul. 

By this time the spectators were weeping with 
V)ity. Tears coursed down the iron cheeks of Win- 
chester, and it is said that even Cauchon wept. 
Massieu, who was responsible for the prisoner till 
the moment she was handed over to the executioner, 


had exhausted every possible pretext for delay, in 
his reluctance to take the next terrible step required 
hy his office. Suddenly a voice called out, " What, 
priest, do you want us to dine here ? " Was this 
the last expression of brutality, or the effort to 
end a scene that was too much for human endur- 
ance ? 

Massieu conducted his prisoner to the secular 
judge, but the latter's emotion seems to have been 
so great, that he forgot to give any judgment, and 
merely said to the English guards : " Take the 
prisoner ; " and to the executioner : " Do thy office." 
Thus Divine Providence spared the Maid the 
exposure which she so much dreaded, for the execu- 
tioner, receiving her without any sentence, did not 
remove her clothing, and place upon her the gown 
of the condemned, as he was accustomed to do after 
sentence had been pronounced. Later generations 
sought in vain for any official record of the martyr- 
dom of Jeanne d'Arc. 

At the sound of the judge's sinister words, the 
greater number of the assessors fled from the scene, 
while a shudder of horror ran through the spectators. 
The executioner seized her, the English soldiers 
closed around her, and hurried her to the steps of 
the scaffold. Then from the midst of them, the 
slender, white-robed figure passed and calmly as- 
cended her Calvary. 

The smaller platform on which the victim was to 
stand when chained to the post, was reached by a 
flight of steps from the main platform. The place 
of punishment had been built high, no doubt, in the 


merciful hope that suffocation would abridge her 

At the foot of the second flight of steps, the exe- 
cutioner placed on the Maid's head a hideous mitre, 
bearing the words : HERETIC, RELAPSED, IDOLA- 
TER, Schismatic. She was chained to the post. 
The two monks remained on the platform, while 
Massieu took his station, as he had promised, at 
the foot of the scaffold, holding up the great cruci- 
fix before her eyes. As the Maid stood on the 
scaffold's lofty height and surveyed the city, she 
said, sadly : " Ah, Rouen ! Rouen ! I greatly fear 
lest thou suffer for my death." Her great heart, 
no doubt, forboded some terrible French reprisal for 
her death, during which the thirst for vengeance 
might be slaked in the blood of the kneeling, weep- 
ing, multitude that looked up at her with pitying 
eyes. Then she declared in a loud voice, that she 
was neither a heretic nor a schismatic ! 

The combustible material beneath the scaffold 
quickly ignited, and in a few moments the fierce 
flames rose towards the martyr. At the sight 
of them she was terrified and called for h'oly 
water, but soon grew calm. Isambard de la 
Pierre retired, but Martin Ladvenu~be his name 
forever honored — could not bring himself to leave 
her. Unmindful of his own danger, he remained on 
the platform, speaking to the martyr of the triumph 
which awaited her in the Paradise about to open to 
her. At length Jeanne, ever mindful of others, 
begged him to go. He reluctantly descended to 
the foot of the scaffold whence he continued to en- 


courage her in a loud voice. Great black clouds of 
smoke now hid -the martyr from sight, but through 
them her voice was heard in a cry of triumph : 
" Yes, my Voices were of God !" Did she see be- 
yond the wild, fierce, leaping, flames and choking 
smoke, that heavenly company, come at last, " to 
take her with them ? ' " Then, after thanking God 
for all the graces He had bestowed on her, she gave 
a last, great, cry of Jesus! and her head fell forward 
on her breast. Her martyrdom was finished ! 

" God grant that my soul go to the place in which 
I believe the soul of this woman is at this mo- 
ment ! " 

So spoke Master Jean Alep6e, Canon of Rouen, 
weeping, to Jean Riquier, who stood near him. 
He only voiced a sentiment that had been gaining 
in the hearts of most of those present as the terrible 
tragedy proceeded. An English soldier had sworn 
to throw a fagot on the pile that burned the witch ; 
he did so, at the very moment of the martyr's death. 
A strange terror overcame him. His comrades 
hastened to apply the usual remedy in cases of 
mental as well as physical distress, and led him to 
the wine shop of the Vieux Marche. But for once 
it was useless, and his conscience gave him no peace 
till he had confessed and implored pardon for what 
he had done. 

The notary, Gillaume Manchon, was so overcome, 
that for more than a month, he did not regain his 
self-command. With the money which he had re- 



ceived for his work in the Process, he bought alit£le 
Missal which he made use of to pray every day foir 
her whose memory he venerated. Jean Trussart, 
secretary to the King of England, said, on return- 
ing from the scene, " We are lost, we have burned 
a saint." The executioner, oppressed by terrible 
anguish, went, the very afternoon of the martyrdom, 
to the Dominican convent, and asked to speak 
with Brothers Martin and Isambard. He bewailed 
with terrible grief, the part he had taken in the ex- 
ecution, and despaired of ever obtaining pardon 
from God for his sin in putting to death so holy a 
person. The good monks strove long and earnestly 
with the conscience-stricken man ; and at length in- 
duced him to confess to Brother Martin. Then, 
perhaps in answer to one of Jeanne's first prayers 
in heaven, peace returned to his soul. 

As for the people, they were not all English. 
There were many French, in whose hearts the 
sentiment of patriotism had been awakened by the 
passion of the martyr, of which their city had been 
the scene. Moreover, both English and French were 
Catholics, and the sight of the Maid's sufferings and 
death, aroused their sympathy by appealing to the 
faith they held in common with her. A murmur 
passed among the throng " that she was dead as a 
martyr for her King." Winchester, quick to read the 
signs of popular feeling, and anxious to prevent any 
public veneration of her relics, ordered that her 
heart, which was found intact, be flung from the 
height of the bridge, into the Seine, that the river 
might bear it to the ocean. 


" Judgment for an evil thing is many times delayed some day 
or two, some century or two ; but it is sure as life ; it is sure as 

English ambition and French treason had des- 
troyed the Maid of France ; all that remained for 
her enemies to do was to reap the full advantage of 
the iniquity. On the Thursday after her martyrdom, 
the Bishop assembled his colleagues for the purpose 
of submitting to them the examination to which 
Jeanne had been subjected on the morning of her 
death, in order that they might endorse the official 
statement that the Maid, before dying, had admitted 
her guilt, and asked pardon of her errors. On the 
following day the Council, in the iTame of Henry 
Sixth, addressed a circular letter to the Emperor 
of Germany, and the Kings, Dukes and Princes of 
Christendom, setting forth the following facts taken 
from a Proces-verbal to which the clerks had re- 
fused their sanction, thus depriving it of all value or 
authenticity ; " that Jeanne, after being abandoned 
by the Church, and seeing her end approach, recog- 
nized and freely confessed that the spirits which 
she declared had frequently visited her, had been 
wicked and lying spirits, and that she had been de- 
ceived by her Voices who had promised to deliver 
her from prison." The same assertions were re- 


peated in another letter, dated the twenty-eighth 
of June, and addressed to the Dukes, Counts, and 
the Lords of all the cities, of France. The 
University of Paris repeated the story in a letter 
which it addressed to the Pope, the Emperor, and 
the College of Cardinals. Then silence fell upon 
the Maid's memory, and she seemed to be for- 

But one heart remained faithful to her. Her 
mother never ceased her efforts to secure the vindi- 
cation of her martyred child. On one of her jour- 
neys to Orleans in regard to it, she fell ill of 
disappointment and fatigue. As she had by this 
time used up all her patrimony, in the expenses in- 
cident to the great object of her life, the grateful 
city, ever loyal to its Maid, settled a pension on her 
mother during life. 

For many years, Charles, though reaping what 
she had sown, paid no heed to the memory of 
Jeanne d'Arc. Then, not through any reverence 
for her, but for fear of his successes being attributed 
to a sorceress, he charged one of his counsellors, de 
Bouille, to establish an inquiry into the case. 
Cardinal d'Estouteville was sent into France about 
this time by Pope Nicholas V. to reconcile the Kings 
of France and England, and unite them in a crusade 
against the Turks. The sympathies of this noble- 
minded prelate were roused in behalf of the memory 
of the martyred Maid, but there was too much oppo- 
sition to permit anything to be accomplished at 
that time. 

In 1455, however, the time was more favorable. 


and Pope Calixtus III. named a commissioner to 
inquire into the case. This was not in answer to 
the requests of the King, but to the supplications 
of Dame Isabel d'Arc. Even England could not re- 
sent the pleading of a mother for her child. The 
hatred of the Maid's enemies had made the task of 
the Maid's Rehabilitation an easy one ; for they 
had gathered every shred of evidence that could be 
collected concerning her. 

The commissioners chosen by the Pope were Ju- 
venal des Ursins, Archbishop of Rheims ; Gillaume 
Chartier, Bishop of Coutances, Richard de Longeuil, 
and Jean Brehal, the Inquisitor-General. They con- 
voked the demanders of the re-opening of the Cause, 
to appear before them in the Church of Notre-Dame 
at Paris, on the seventh of November, 1455, in pub- 
lic audience. 

There Dame Isabel, now in her sixty-seventh 
year, but erect in figure, and bearing traces of 
beauty, appeared, supported by her son Pierre, and 
uttered her plea for justice to the memory of her 
martyred child. The case thus opened, was directed 
against Cauchon, Lemaitre, and d'Estivet, only, thus 
removing the fears of the other doctors of the Uni- 
versity who had taken part in the trial and con- 
demnation of the Maid. 

Cauchon and d'Estivet, however, had, long before, 
gone to appear before another tribunal, and there 
remained only Lemaitre for the commissioners to 
deal with. But he was not to be found. This 
fact troubled the friends of the Maid but little, 
however ; what they desired was not the punish- 


ment of her murderers, but justice to be done to her 

The witnesses interrogated by the commissioners, 
differed widely in character, social position, calling, 
and in their dispositions towards the accused. 
Peasants from Domremy, the playmates and com- 
panions of her happy childish years ; Captains 
like Dunois and d'Alengon ; Louis de Contes, her 
page ; and d'Aulon, her ecuyer ; ecclesiastics like 
the doctors of Poitiers, and Pasquerel her faithful 
chaplain and director during her military career ; 
the assessors of Rouen, both friendly and unfriendly 
to her, Martin Ladvenu who confessed her in prison, 
and de Courcelles ; Isambard de la Pierre and 
Massieu, as well as Beaupere ; Mauguerie, member 
of the King of England's council, and de Houppe- 
ville ; so that every phase of her career, every trait of 
her character, every tendency of her spirit, had, so to 
speak, its witnesses and its censors, in the hearing 
of her cause. The result was her complete Vindica- 
tion and Rehabilitation by Calixtus, the decree of 
which was solemnly pronounced at Rouen on the 
seventh of July, 1456, 

The Maid of France was dead, but the spirit of 
French nationality, which she had created, was not, 
and the work which she had begun was carried to 
a successful issue. In a few years the English had 
lost every spot of French territory save Calais. 
In reading history, we " catch sight, through the 
darkness, of the fateful threads of woven fire that 
connect error with retribution " ; we see England, 
losing, in a few years, every spot of French terri- 


tory save Calais, and ravaged and desolated by 
the Wars of the Roses, from which she emerged 
only to pass under the despotism of the Tudors. 
We see Burgundy, the treason of whose duke to 
his King brought about this awful crime, absorbed 
into French territory by Louis Eleventh, son of 
Charles Seventh, thus disappearing for ever as a 
political power. The University of Paris, too, dis- 
appears from history. 

As for their holy Victim, time has only exalted her 
memory, and increased the devotion to her. The 
French people revere her not only as the liberator 
of France, but the savior of Christian civiliza- 
ion, by preserving that nation from the so-called 
religious " Reformation," which as a province of 
England, it would have been subjected to by 
Henry Eighth. In our own day, four hundred and 
sixty-three years after her martyrdom, she has been 
declared venerable by the Church, and though 
many years may go by before the next step in the 
Process is taken, there is a prospect of the Maid 
becoming the Patron Saint of France. 

Unfortunately, France is not all Christian, and 
outside the Church, the intense enthusiasm which 
she has aroused has caused the Maid's life and 
career to become the subject of bitter controversy. 
The anti-Christian school insists that she was a 
woman of transcendent genius who devoted her 
great powers exclusively to her country. " Not 
so," exclaims the scientific school, " it is psychology 
alone that can explain the life and actions of this 
unique type in history." Thus while the anniversa- 


ries of her martyrdom are held as sacred days in 
*",he French calendar, while genius has consecrated 
its works in marble, and music, and painting to her 
memory, she remains a riddle to all who will not 
accept the teachings of the Church. To her chil- 
dren, the story of the Maid is full of the harmony 
which marks the things of God ; in their conscious- 
ness her memory is as untouched by the blasphe- 
mous explanations of her power, as is her serene, 
saintly figure, with grave, steadfast eyes, on the 
stained glass window of a great French Church, un- 
touched by the crowd below. As strong as man, 
as tender as woman, misfortune could not disturb 
her serenity, nor victory make her proud. Thus 
she remains, and will remain for all time, an inspira- 
tion to the sons and daughters of men, moving 
them to listen to the Voices of God which are 
sounding within the heart of each of them the call 
to that Work He has chosen him to do. 


jtu(i«-si& mo\ 

JUN 12 I'jui 


029 446 691 5